An Alpha's Pack
by Junesong55thunder
Summary: Spin-off season 1 episode "Co-Captain." Events didn't go so well after the lacrosse game. Things take a different turn, and Scott will experience what Peter Hale does when he wants something that he can't have. He takes it. But what happens when Scott and his friends take it back? Noncon/hurt-comfort/brotherly love (Derek and Scott). Complete.
1. Unexpected

**Chapter One**

 **"Unexpected"**

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Scott McCall made his way out of the shower room to his locker, a towel wrapped around his hips. Adrenaline still burned in his chest over Jackson's words in the hallway. He dropped his phone on the bench and opened up his locker, glancing around at his team mates. The rest of the team was still celebrating their win. They were loud around him, and joyful shouts of, "State! State! State!" rang through the room.

Scott was glad for the win, and the weight on his shoulders had nothing to do with lacrosse.

"By the way, McCall," said Danny, and Scott came out of his thoughts to look at him. Danny's smile was friendly. "Apology accepted."

Scott returned the smile, but he looked bewildered. "I didn't apologize."

"Every time you got the ball tonight you passed it to me," said Danny smugly.

Scott chuckled under his breath and shrugged a little, rubbing a towel over his hair. "Every time I passed the ball to you, you scored."

Danny's smirk widened a little, and he heaved the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "Apology accepted," he repeated firmly. He smiled as he passed Scott and left the locker room.

Scott's smile flickered after Danny was gone. He turned back to his locker and dried the rest of his body as the rest of the team filed out of the locker room, still shouting their victory chants. He took his time as he pulled on his briefs and his gray jeans. Everyone else had gone now, and there was no reason to hurry. His thoughts drifted as he buttoned his jeans and sat on the bench, reaching for his converse sneakers...

Allison was speaking to him again. That would be something to hold onto, in the coming days. Or weeks, or... years... as he imagined things might never stop being complicated, probably always in new and different ways... He needed to find Derek. There were questions that needed answers, and Derek seemed to have vanished over the past few days...

He pulled on his socks and started lacing his first shoe. Suddenly, there was a clang and the lights in the locker room went out.

Scott paused and looked up. "Danny?"

No response came. Frowning, he got up with one shoe on his foot and made his way around the row of lockers. He walked toward the locker room door, and flicked the light switch. Nothing happened.

His thoughtful frown deepened a little. His eyes flickered to the rows of lockers, up to the beams near the ceiling. He glanced down to the bench where his towel was draped, then looked around again. "Stiles. Is that you?"

Something moved in the dim, shifting light of the shower ventilation fans. A lacrosse ball had rolled out of the shower room. It came to a stop at the base of the first row of lockers, and Scott made his way slowly over to it. He moved into the brighter light of the shower room and reached down to pick it up. He held it in his hands, then looked up again hesitantly, his attention on the shower room now.

Uncertainly, he stepped into the shower room, alert and slightly on edge. After a few more steps, a dark form came into view near a dripping shower head. It startled Scott in the dark, but then he could see... it was Derek.

A flood of reactions took Scott at that moment. "Thank God, where the hell have you been?" he expelled, walking closer to Derek. He was almost angry, but mostly relieved. "Do you have any idea what's been going on?" He was close enough to see the other beta's eyes, and what he saw there made him pause. He stopped for a moment.

Derek didn't react to him. His pale eyes left Scott's face to fix on something behind him, over the other beta's shoulder.

Confused, Scott turned halfway, glancing behind him. He inhaled quickly and did a double take, his gaze fixing on none other than Peter Hale.

The alpha slowly emerged from behind a partition. He moved gracefully into the brighter light of the shifting shower fans. He held a lacrosse stick in his hands, and he turned it over, a bemused expression lighting his features as he appeared to study it. "I really don't get lacrosse," he commented casually. His voice carried an air of danger that Scott couldn't ignore. He realized Peter was blocking the door now.

Scott felt as though he was stuck in place, staring at the alpha. "It was you..." he whispered, and the accusation was in his eyes.

But Peter didn't seem to have heard him. "When I was in high school, we played basketball," he continued, giving Scott an occasional glance while he inspected the lacrosse stick. "There's a real sport."

Scott shifted position, turning to look at Derek. When he saw that Derek would only look at Peter, he turned to look back at Peter as well, who was still speaking.

"Still, I read somewhere that the game of lacrosse comes from Native American Tribes, and they would play it to resolve conflict. Do I have that right?" He hoisted the stick up to rest it on his shoulder with a careless shrug. "Hm. Well, I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott." Peter lowered the lacrosse stick and leaned it against the wall. He turned the full intensity of his stare on Scott. "But I need your help to do it."

Scott met the alpha's eyes. His body was tense. A line appeared between his brows, a solid frown forming on his face. "I'm not helping you kill people," he said in a low voice.

But Peter seemed almost amused, though nothing in his gaze imparted friendliness. "Well I don't want to kill all of them," he said with a small smile, "Just the responsible ones. And that doesn't have to include..." he hesitated, like he was trying to remember a name, and looked past Scott to Derek.

"Allison," Derek quietly intoned.

Scott looked back at Derek. This time Derek did look at him, but Scott couldn't find anything in the other beta's eyes. There was no hint of acknowledgment.

The feeling of unease in Scott's stomach expanded uncomfortably. "You're... on his side?" He said uncomprehendingly.

Derek looked away from Scott and back to Peter without responding.

Scott felt anger beginning to burn in his chest once more. "Are you forgetting the part where he _killed your sister_?" His voice rose at the end, louder and more incredulous.

"It was a mistake," said Derek quietly, glancing back to Scott. His face seemed expressionless and almost blank. There was a darkness about him, unrelated to the dim light of the turning fans.

Scott felt as though his breath was compressing in his lungs. "What?"

"It happens," said Derek coolly, watching the younger beta.

"Scott," came Peter's calm voice.

Scott slowly turned his head to look at him as he tried to register the shock.

"I think you're getting the wrong impression of us," said Peter smoothly, rubbing his hands together lightly. "We really just want to help you reach your full potential."

"By killing my friends," said Scott coldly. His brows were furrowed in anger.

Peter fixed him with a mildly bemused, half-smiling stare. "Sometimes, the people closest to you..." he paused and took a step closer to Scott, who held his ground. "Can be the ones holding you back the most."

Scott exhaled sharply. "If they're holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut-job like you... I'm okay with that."

There was prolonged moment of silence while Scott and Peter watched each other. Then, with a soft inhale, Peter starting walking forward.

Scott straightened up and shuffled backward a few steps. He cast another look sideways at Derek, but Derek only glanced between the two of them, not moving, saying nothing. After a split second, Scott forced himself to stand his ground and face Peter. He knew both of them could hear the rapid pounding of his heart.

Peter stopped a few inches from Scott and raised his hand, calmly observing the growing claws at the tips of his fingers. Then he looked at Scott, and a chilling smile curled his lips. "Maybe you could try and see things... From my perspective."

Without warning, Peter's hand streaked past Scott's face, gripping the boy by the back of the neck. The sharp claws easily punctured through flesh and muscle to reach his spinal chord.

Scott's body went rigid, his back arching. His head rolled back as Peter's nails dug in deeper, his cries of pain choked by the tightness of his throat. Then suddenly Peter released him.

Scott's knees collapsed and he tilted toward the floor. Memories that were not his own flooded through his mind, and he fell hard, his muscles seizing. His body curled forward, then he writhed onto his back, arching off the floor. He threw himself onto his side, his back toward Peter. He covered the back of his neck with his hand, his eyes rolling, choking on strangled gasps.

Derek had started forward, a flicker of a surprise crossing his face at Peter's move. He strode toward his Uncle and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "You told me he wouldn't be hurt," he said loudly to Peter.

"He'll be fine," said Peter dismissively, prying Derek's fingers out of his shirt with ease. "I just gave him a few memories. When he sees it through my eyes... well," he smiled dryly, looking down at Scott's rigid, seizing body. "I bet he'll be more willing to stand with us."

"And if he's not?"

A low chuckle escaped Peter's lips. "If you really think he's determined enough..." he shook his head slowly. It seemed almost like all of this was just an amusing gamble for him. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

Derek exhaled a quiet growl. "You told me..."

"I know, I know," supplied Peter smoothly, "He won't be hurt." The alpha pushed Derek aside. He bent over and heaved Scott off the floor, dropping him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and turning back to Derek. "I don't know why it matters to you, Derek. He's not a Hale. He's not your beta. He's mine. He's the boy who was in the woods on the right night, at the right time. Nothing more."

Derek didn't answer. His eyes were dark as he glanced between Peter and what he could see of Scott. It was clear that Scott wasn't conscious. The younger boy was reliving some of the less pleasant Hale-family history, and Derek was familiar with the unpleasant sensation. Implanting memories was much more unpleasant than extracting them. The beta's eyes flicked coolly to Peter's face and he gave a short nod. "Alright. If you're taking him, I'm coming with you."

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 **Thank you for stopping by! Leave a review if you got the time! (but ain't nobody got time for dat xD )**


	2. Unwilling

**Chapter Two**

 **"Unwilling"**

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Scott was half-conscious as Peter carried him into the old Hale house, with Derek close behind.

"Why are we here?" Asked Derek, jogging up the stairs behind his uncle. "Why not the forest?"

Peter held the door open for Derek with his free hand. "I don't want to be interrupted."

"The Argents don't trap on our land anymore," Derek pointed out, closing the door behind him.

Peter headed for the basement door and started down the stairwell. "You're too complacent. It might get you killed, Derek."

Derek was silent as Peter crossed the basement to the opposite wall. He watched him angle his shoulder and drop Scott unceremoniously to the floor, where the boy landed on his back, still clad only in his jeans, white socks, and one single shoe.

Scott bent his knees, his arms curling in front of his chest, his eyes scrambling. Flashes of images and sounds assaulted his mind, and the only noises he made were incoherent to the two men.

Peter chuckled with his back to Derek. He crouched down, pulling the shoe off Scott's foot and straightening up with it. "I guess we could have given him a chance to dress," he commented in an odd tone. He turned to face Derek again, then raised his eyebrows at his nephew. "Why do you have that look on your face? You should know as well as I do how important this is."

Derek glanced from Scott to Peter. He looked doubtful, as though a permanent shadow hung over his face. "This doesn't feel right," he said quietly, his features hard and unreadable. "Someone will come looking for him... and even if they don't, I told you, Peter, I said... he won't kill for you. You won't be able to make him. So you said you had other plans for him."

Peter made a small hmm sound. He silently regarded Scott's rigid form for a prolonged moment. "I do," he finally answered.

Derek stepped closer, wanting Peter to make eye contact again. "So what are you going to do? Chain him up and starve him until he does what you want?" His words were mostly just to make a point, but what he didn't expect was the slight smile that curved his uncle's lips.

The alpha toyed around with Scott's shoe, before finally obliging Derek and meeting his eyes. "Your heroics are misplaced," he said coldly, and a fleeting red glow came to his eyes. It was gone after only a moment. "Scott McCall isn't my victim, like you seem to suspect. I plan to make him one of my strongest betas... perhaps stronger even than you."

Derek's eyes flashed blue in response to Peter's red. He exhaled slowly, then reached forward to yank the shoe out of Peter's hand. He clearly had doubts, but he seemed to decide against arguing further at that moment. "If he's not back at his mother's house by the morning they might have the cops out searching for him," he said in a low tone.

"Don't worry about that," said Peter calmly. He was unphased. "I've taken care of it."

Derek stared at him for another long second. Then with a short exhale he crossed the room to sit on an old broken chair, turning it to sit backward with his arms across the top of the chairback.

"Are you going to babysit him?" Peter asked with a wide smirk, his eyes following Derek's movements.

Derek shrugged shortly. "Nothing else to do."

Peter's smirk faded. "Let me remind you one more time..." His voice was more dangerous, and the façade of his patience was wearing thin. His eyes glowed bright red in the shadow of the stairwell. "Who's beta is Scott McCall?"

Derek took a moment before answering. He felt the warning exuded by the alpha. "No one's," he finally answered temperately. "He doesn't belong to any pack yet."

A low, chilling rumble sounded from deep in Peter's throat. "Wrong," he growled, his icy gaze glued on his nephew. He took a few steps closer. "I gave him the bite, I turned him. He is my beta. You think I would let my own beta run off to be a lone omega? The sooner you open your eyes, the easier all of this will be." His face seemed to soften, and his eyes returned to their normal color. Peter stopped about a foot away from Derek's chair, and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Derek... You know how much I need you." Gently, he gave Derek's shoulder a pat, his fingers squeezing. "There can't be any vengeance without your help."

Derek sat completely still, as though formed from stone. He didn't take his eyes off Peter as the older man turned from him and headed for the stairs.

"Hey," said Derek suddenly.

Peter stopped at the base of the stairwell and looked back.

Derek's eyes glowed deep blue, illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. "I'm with you," he growled. "There will be vengeance."

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Scott blinked hard as he came back to the present. He slowly realized he was staring up at a dark ceiling. He let out a low groan, reaching a hand up to rub his head. A headache pounded in his temples. "Ahh... what..." he muttered incoherently, blinking harder, trying to see more clearly in the gloom. He turned his head to look around and his eyes came into focus.

The sound of something dragging loudly across the floor sent a burst of adrenaline through his veins. He tried to sit up quickly, narrowing his eyes to focus on the figure drawing nearer. "Derek?"

Derek dragged a chair nearby and sat down on it backward. He held up a water bottle and tossed it gently toward Scott.

Scott didn't move to catch it so it hit him in the chest, and rolled into his lap. He glanced down at it, picking it up, then looked back up at Derek. "Where are we?" He asked in a scratchy voice.

"My house," Derek answered coolly. "The basement. We came down here in case any Argents wander onto my property when night falls."

Scott rubbed his temple again... he was still adjusting to the onslaught of foreign memories. "The Argents... your family. The fire..." he muttered, giving his head a sharp shake, trying to clear it.

Derek's eyes sharpened and he leaned his elbows on the back of the chair, watching Scott intently. "Yeah. It was them. They did it."

Scott stared back at him from beneath heavy brows. "I know..." he trailed off, his eyes glancing sightlessly for a moment under the weight of all the memories. "I saw."

Derek nodded, his eyes hard. "Good. Then you know why Peter's doing what he's doing. You know why my family has to be avenged. You understand why the ones responsible for it have to die."

Scott was silent. As his mind settled, he pushed himself further into a sitting position against the wall. After a minute, he gave a slight shake of his head. "I don't know."

Derek's eyes flashed. "You don't know? Innocent children, Scott. Human children, and it's because of the Argents that they're all dead."

Scott swallowed hard. He looked a little pale, as if the memories had made him feel sick. "I only saw Kate. I didn't see - "

"It's what they do!" Derek interrupted, his voice bearing a harsh growl. He stood up, pushing the chair aside so hard it toppled over as he advanced angrily toward Scott. "It's what they've done for centuries, they have only one purpose! To hunt down and kill our kind. Don't you get it?"

Scott pushed himself up to his feet, still bracing slightly against the wall until he found his balance. He faced Derek. "Not Allison."

Derek stared at him openly, and then laughed without any humor. "Allison..." he pushed Scott against the wall by the shoulder. "You think your girlfriend will be different? First chance she gets, she'll pick up the family crossbow and send a bolt through your heart. She'll hunt you like a cockroach, is that what you want, Scott? Do you want to be cut in half on an Argent's sword?"

"No," growled Scott, gripping Derek's wrist, "You're wrong. You don't know her. You don't know any of them, and you can't just kill them."

Derek let a ferocious growl rip loose from his chest. He shoved Scott hard by his shoulders, pressing his face up close to the younger beta's. His blue wolf eyes gleamed less than an inch from Scott's eyes, which glowed gold. Derek's claws sharpened, and they punctured into Scott's shoulders as he breathed heavily into the boy's face.

Scott pushed back against Derek, and a snarl rolled past his teeth. "Derek... get off me." He refused to look away from the man's crimson gaze.

Hearing Scott, Derek seemed to remember himself a little. The sharp points of his claws retracted, and he took a reluctant step back.

Scott felt small trails of blood tracing paths down his chest as the puncture wounds began to heal. "They have a code," he said tensely. "They don't kill anyone unless they have to. I don't know why Kate - I don't why she - " His voice broke, " - but if Allison was a hunter, she would never break the code."

Derek let go of Scott and retreated a few more steps, his eyes on the younger beta. His bright blue eyes faded back to human. He looked almost sorry, but it was difficult to identify the cold, dark look on his face. "Tell my family about the code... If you can find all their ashes." He turned his face away from Scott.

Scott took a step away from the wall. The scuffle had returned some of the color to his cheeks. "I won't kill anyone, Derek..." His tone was more hesitant. "I can't. I can't be part of Peter's pack."

Derek's eyes shifted back to Scott's face. "I know. I don't get it, but I know you won't."

Scott curled his arms around his stomach lightly, averting his eyes momentarily. "I have to go. I missed work... I have to call my boss, and my phone is at the school."

Derek exhaled heavily, looking world-weary. His eyes followed the trails of blood down Scott's chest from where his claws had punctured him, the wounds now healed. Shaking his head slowly, he stood back after a moment and went to the other side of the room. He came back with Scott's single shoe and handed it over. "You need help getting into the school?" He asked, his voice dull and lifeless.

Scott shook his head, reaching to take the shoe. "There's a door that stays unlocked until past nine on Fridays," he explained quietly. There was nothing he enjoyed about denying Derek the help he asked for, but he knew he had no choice.

With a slight nod, Derek moved back again, out of Scott's path. "Alright. Well... Don't let me stop you."

Scott watched him for another moment, his gaze heavy. He wanted to say something to him, anything that would be of any help, but he knew there was nothing to be said. He looked away, and started to walk toward the stairs.

At that moment another figure emerged from the shadows of the stairwell, eyes glowing red.

"Peter," said Scott in surprise, halting.

Peter stepped further out of the shadows and blocked Scott's path. His bright red eyes flashed toward Derek, and a sinister smile tugged at his mouth. "It was a valiant effort, Derek, but you gave in too easily." Those red eyes flickered back to land on Scott, who stood rooted to the floor. "Allow me to stop you, Scott, if my nephew is unwilling."

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 **Thank you thank you thank you for your reviews! ;) Keep em coming my lovelies.**


	3. Heroes and Villains

**Chapter Three**

 **"Heroes and Villains"**

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Scott's jaw clenched and he gave his head a shake, his eyes on Peter. "I have to go."

"What's your hurry?" Asked Peter calmly, stepping nearer. Scott was forced back a step despite his best effort not to move. "No one will be missing you yet, except that animal doctor of yours."

Scott tried to maintain a strong stance, his shoulders squared. "We've talked already. There's nothing you can say to change my mind. I won't be a murderer."

Peter chuckled benignly, his eyes flickering over Scott's face. After a moment of tense silence, he closed the gap between them with a harmless air, putting his arm around Scott's shoulder and turning him around, away from the stairs. "Listen, Scott. I know how you feel," he said as he gently walked Scott back across the room. "I know how you think your whole self-worth now is rooted in what kind of monster you choose to be."

Scott didn't resist at that moment, and he said nothing. He threw an uncertain look in Derek's direction. The darkness in the basement made it hard to make out the other beta's expression.

Peter pushed him backward against the chair, and Scott sat reluctantly, turning to look back up at Peter.

Peter stared down at him with an eerie light in his eyes as he took his hand off Scott's chest and straightened up. He walked a slow circle around the chair. Scott felt the alpha's hands close on his shoulders from behind in a firm grasp.

"I have to go," Scott repeated on an exhale, with a low growl of frustration in his tone. He yanked his shoulders and tried to get back to his feet.

Peter tightened his grip and quickly leaned over the back of the chair, effectively holding him in place. "Not yet, Scott," he said firmly beside Scott's ear. There was a hint of a growl in his voice too. "You'll hear me out."

Scott could hear Derek's foot steps get a little closer from the shadows, and then stop.

"You don't want to be a murderer, Scott. You don't want to be a monster, which is what you think I am, and you miss your life as a human. An innocent human." Scott could practically hear the smirk on Peter's face. "But these are words we could throw around all day... innocent... monster... heroes, villains... none of it is anything more than a matter of semantics."

"That's not true," said Scott tensely, leaning slightly sideways away from Peter. "Murder isn't a matter of semantics."

Peter loosened his grip on Scott's shoulders, and straightened up partially, so that his breath no longer hit Scott's neck when he spoke. "Murder is what the Argents did to my family," he said, quietly but dangerously. "I know what murder is, much better than you do. You're missing my point, Scott. Someone could call themselves a hero, and go around killing people. Someone else could be called a villain for trying to put an end to it." Peter let go of Scott's shoulders completely and walked back around the front of the chair to look down at him once more. His gaze was intent, and Scott met it unwaveringly. "Do you see what I'm saying, Scott? Plenty of humans are monstrous... and plenty of 'monsters' know how to play at being human."

Scott was listening, even though he was trying not to. He shook his head shortly without faltering eye contact. "None of that means you get to kill anyone," he said and his voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat and in that sound, if not in his demeanor, his discomfort was clear. They could probably smell it on him.

Peter appeared to experience a moment of forced patience. He straightened up and took his eyes off Scott, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers, before slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Another hint of a smirk arranged itself on his face as he glanced down at Scott, starting to walk slowly around the chair. "You know..." he paced a slow circle around Scott. "I see a lot of myself in you. You're determined, you're stubborn. And you just _know_ that you're right." He completed another circle around the chair where Scott sat. "You think you know exactly who you are, Scott. But the fact is... you have no way of knowing if the person you _think_ you are has anything to do with who you really are, in truth."

"I never said I know anything, except I know I won't kill -"

"Are you really a decent boy?" Peter continued, interrupting. "Decent, but with the potential to become an evil monster like me some day? Or..." He let out a chuckle that made Scott's neck hairs stand on end. Peter stopped his pacing momentarily and faced Scott. "Are you an evil monster that only thinks it's a decent boy?"

Scott didn't say anything for a second. He was trying to control the flood of anger that threatened to bubble up from his chest. He stood up slowly from the chair, facing Peter. "I'm none of that." His voice was raised a little, his eyes flashing in the dim light. He turned abruptly toward the stairs, intending to barrel right through the alpha if he needed to.

But before he had time to blink, Peter was already in front of him again, standing at the base of the stairs. Scott halted sharply. "Get out of my way..."

Peter leaned idly against the sideboard. "The answer is neither of those," he intoned softly. "You're a monster just like the rest of us, and you know it."

Scott advanced a few steps, then stopped again. "You don't know me." Seeing that Peter didn't react to his advance, he took a few more steps toward the stairs.

"I'm not done with you yet, Scott McCall."

"Yes you are. I mean - I am, I'm finished," stammered Scott angrily. "I'm leaving. If I don't get to the school by nine I lose my phone until Monday."

"Oh," said Peter with a crooked smile. "This phone?" He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up so Scott could see it in the dim light.

Scott's eyes widened angrily, and he took a few quick strides toward Peter. "Why do you have my phone?" He demanded, trying to take it from Peter's hand, but the alpha tucked it behind his back, out of reach.

That oily smile still played on Peter's lips. "To make this easier," he answered simply.

Scott stared at him, his chest heaving, his eyes livid. "What?" He growled.

There was no time for Scott to react. His wolf senses alerted him but not soon enough, and Peter was much faster and stronger. In an instant, the alpha had leaped forward and shoved Scott hard, wrapping a thick arm around his neck from behind and cutting off his air. Scott choked, eyes glinting gold as his nails scrabbled against Peter's arm, sharpening, but barely scratching him. His body shifted and his canines grew long and sharp as he fought to breathe.

Another growl thundered from the other side of the room.

But Scott wasn't paying attention. His nails gouged Peter's arm deeply, and he tried to kick the older man's legs, but he couldn't draw a breath, and Peter was forcing him to his knees.

"You're not going anywhere, Scott," snarled Peter into the boy's ear. "You're with me, whether you want to be or not. I know who you are better than you do, better than anyone does... because you're mine."

Peter kneeled down behind Scott as the boy continued to fight the strangle hold. With his knees other either side of Scott for balance, he tightened his grip around Scott's throat, his eyes flashing bright red.

Scott was starting to black out, his struggles weakening.

"Uncle," came Derek's voice, as if from far away. "Let him go."

"Calm down, Derek, I'm not killing him."

Scott's hands dropped away from Peter's arm and his head rolled back against the alpha's shoulder as the room swam into darkness. His face returned to human form, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Peter saw this, and with a grunt he pushed the boy face down to the floor.

Suddenly he could breathe again, and he drew in sharp gasps. His eyes started to work again and the world slowed its spinning. He could feel the alpha's hand holding him down by the base of his neck, and something else was keeping him from moving... He realized Peter was straddling his lower back.

"I told you to let him go," growled Derek's voice.

Scott couldn't see either of them; his head was turned the opposite way and Peter's weight stopped him from being able to turn.

"If you can't handle what has to be done, then get the hell out of here," came Peter's return growl. He pressed more weight at the base of Scott's neck, forcing a pained sound from the boy's chest.

"I'm on your side, but not like this. I won't let you do it like this." Derek's tone was low and full of warning.

Peter's nails dug painfully into the skin on both sides of Scott's neck. "You don't have a choice."

"I mean it," snarled Derek, "I'll stop you."

"Don't be an idiot, you can't stop me. Shut the hell up and let me do what I have to do."

"No..."

Scott used his arms to push himself up just enough to turn his head. Derek had lowered himself down into a defensive crouch, his bright blue eyes fixed on Peter.

There was a prolonged moment during which no one said a word. There was no sound except for Scott's labored breathing.

Then in a flash, Peter had jumped up and flung Scott toward the wall like he weighed nothing at all.

Scott hit the wall and dropped, landing on his side and trying to roll.

Peter was on him again before he could get his feet under him. There was a flash of metal as the alpha forced Scott's arms behind his back, and then the sound of a sharp metallic click.

In that same moment Derek let out a roar of anger, and came barreling forward. Peter was already prepared for him. He leaped away from Scott and met Derek mid-air, their bodies clashing violently.

The sound of their roars and their snapping teeth rang in Scott's ears as he registered what had happened. His arms were fastened behind his back. Some kind of heavy-duty handcuffs secured his wrists to the metal pipe along the wall.

Scott breathed hard as he tried to break the cuffs. For some reason he couldn't; he couldn't even bend the pipe he was cuffed to. His bare feet slipped on the musty floor as he kept fighting, trying to keep an eye on the fight at the same time.

But it didn't take long for Peter to deal the final blow. With a vicious strike, Peter's hand collided with the side of Derek's bloodied face.

Derek's eyes rolled back as his head jerked sideways, and he veered into the wall, crumpling to the floor. He groaned deep in his chest. He stopped moving, his eyes closed.

Scott knew the alpha's roar of victory as if it was something he had heard before. It was unlike any other roar, louder and stronger than any of Derek's roars, and strangely compelling... But Scott did his best to get it out of his mind, focusing on his restraints. He knew if he couldn't find a way to get free that moment, it might be over for him. And it might even be over for Derek...

Peter grabbed hold of Derek's leather jacket by the shoulder and dragged the beta heavily into the center of the room. He crouched over Derek's prone form, one clawed hand spread firmly on his nephew's chest. He raised his head and another bone-chilling howl of victory reverberated around the room. Then Peter lowered his head, and turned slowly to fix his gleaming, red eyes on Scott.

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 **Big Scott-whumpage on the menu for the next few chapters, I hope you can handle it! Also prepare for protective!Derek. Leave a review ;)**


	4. He's No Omega

**Chapter Four**

 **"He's No Omega"**

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Another victory howl echoed through the basement. Peter liked the sound of it. A smile curved his lips, his blood-red eyes gleaming.

Derek made a small movement underneath his hand, and the young man's eyes started to flicker open heavily.

Peter took his eyes off Scott to look down at his nephew. "I told you not to be an idiot," he murmured. "Did you really think you could beat me?"

Derek wasn't fully conscious yet. His eyes rolled a little and his eyelids fluttered. He didn't look at Peter.

Peter grabbed Derek by the front of his leather jacket, and heaved him up. He looked over at Scott again, still wearing that cold smile, and began to drag Derek toward the boy, Derek's legs dragging behind him.

Peter growled as he heaved Derek closer. "You want to choose this omega over your righteous vengeance?" He said in a low hiss. "The lone wolf. The pathetic, sniveling cub?"

Peter stopped in front of Scott, who looked up at him. Anger and apprehension flashed in his golden eyes.

Peter looked at him as though he were a disobedient dog, worth no more than a chain. The alpha shook his head slowly, and another smirk curled his lip. "Alright, nephew. Your wish is granted. You chose the lone omega, so here... Choose him."

Peter turned Derek's listless body and shoved him hard toward Scott.

A burst of air was forced from Scott's lungs when Derek landed on him face-first, their chests colliding. Derek rolled off of him with a groan, hitting the floor. One of his hands unconsciously grabbed into the bottom of Scott's jeans, pulling his leg in a sightless daze.

Peter reached down again and grabbed the back of his nephew's leather jacket again. He righted the younger man and spun him forcefully onto his knees. As he did so, Scott saw Derek's eyes open more clearly, the pupils dilating and contracting as the beta's vision started to come into focus.

Without waiting, Peter viciously pushed Derek forward again. Derek didn't have to strength or awareness to resist. Peter shoved him hard against Scott's front, and as Derek tried not to fall sideways, his legs straddled Scott's thighs. His jacket-clad chest pressed roughly against Scott's skin as his head rolled forward weakly, his forehead hitting the wall above Scott's shoulder.

Scott's breathing came faster as he tried to support Derek's significant weight. He struggled sharply. "What are you doing?" He rasped, desperately fighting the cuffs that secured him to the metal pipe. He tried to see Peter around the curve of Derek's neck.

Peter held Derek against Scott without relenting. His gleaming eyes were fixed on Scott's golden irises. He chuckled darkly. "You won't be able to break those, Scott."

The only answer he got from Scott was a hardened, angry glare, an expression Scott hoped would disguise his sharp breathing, and the fear he felt deep in his gut.

"It's not common iron, Scott, it's pure titanium. All the metal work in this basement is the same. We built this place to last... even through a raging fire."

Scott still said nothing.

Finally, Peter's eyes darkened to their human shade. He didn't ease up on Derek's back.

"What are you going to do?" Growled Scott, panting for air against the pressure on his chest.

Derek's head rose a few inches, and he tremulously lifted his head.

Scott registered a sudden sense of relief to see his eyes. Now that he was fully waking up he could start to heal...

Peter saw it too. His smile widened a little. "I'm going to do what I told you I would do. What I told my dimwitted nephew I would do. Eventually." Peter gave a calm sigh. "But it seems I'll have to take other roads to get there."

When Derek could feel Scott's heartbeat against his own chest, he realized what was happening. He knew what his uncle was doing... Maybe Scott didn't understand, because he was young, and because he didn't know Peter like Derek did... but Derek knew.

"Let me up," growled Derek, his breath on Scott's collarbone. "I made a mistake... we need to talk..."

"No, Derek. I think Scott was right about talking. Right about one thing anyway, which is there will be no more of it. I think we're well past talking at this point, don't you?"

"Peter, listen - " tried Derek again, but Peter interrupted him.

"You chose him over me, nephew. You chose Scott McCall over righteous vengeance. An omega, all alone, no pack yet... Was it a wise choice?"

Derek strained against the pressure Peter was exerting against the two of them. "He's not alone... and he's no omega."

There was a moment of silence before Peter chuckled with no humor. "See? Your choice is made. So do it. You chose him, so take him. If he won't join my pack yet, he'll never join any pack led by a beta. So take him, what else is to be done with a wolf that won't submit?"

Peter applied more pressure, pushing Derek against Scott with more force. Scott grimaced under Derek's weight, dropping his head back against the wall as the cuffs dug into his wrists. His breathing was shallow and painful, but he didn't want either of them to see it.

"I won't!" Snarled Derek after a short glance to Scott's face. He planted his hands on either side of Scott's shoulders, and pushed back against his uncle's arms with all his might. "Get... OFF ME!"

Derek had relieved some pressure on his chest and he could draw in some air. Scott inhaled a few deep breaths. He could feel the skin around his cuffs constantly bleeding and healing, bleeding and healing. His eyes shot from Derek to Peter.

Without warning, Peter aimed a solid blow toward the back of Derek's head. When his fist collided with his nephew's skull, Derek's head crashed into Scott's temple, making both of them reel sideways. Scott's cuffs caught him sharply and he gasped, giving his head a sharp shake, trying to steady his vision. He blinked rapidly and ignored the loud ringing in his ears. The room seemed to spin, but soon it began to slow, and he could see clearly again.

Derek wasn't against him anymore. Scott took deep, steadying breaths as he looked around in the darkness.

Peter had pulled Derek to the wall a few meters away from Scott. He cuffed him to the titanium pipe, just like he had cuffed Scott. Derek's head fell forward, his chin touching his chest, but his eyes were still open and he raised his head again.

"You have to let us go, Peter," breathed Scott in a raspy voice. His throat tight and bruised. The injuries were from an alpha... Scott remembered then that they wouldn't heal as fast.

Peter left Derek cuffed to the titanium pipe, and turned to look at Scott. "Not until I have what I want."

Scott shook his head. "I won't do it!" He rasped, practically begging the alpha to believe his words."

"I _will_ get what I want from you, Scott McCall." Peter's tone was deadly even. "I'll find the right road, and I'll take it. You don't believe it, Scott, but you're already mine. And you were born to be the best."

Peter turned away and walked to the stairs, jogging up to the first floor. When he shut the basement door behind him, it cut off most of the remaining light from the basement, plunging Scott and Derek into almost total darkness.

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 **This was a short one, but only because the next chapter has arrived. Enjoy!**


	5. The First Attempt

**Chapter Five**

 **"The First Attempt"**

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It had been ten minutes since Peter left Derek and Scott alone in the silence of the dark basement. He hadn't explained where he was going, or when he would be back.

Scott didn't stop fighting the cuffs even for a moment. It was the only thing he could do, and he couldn't just do nothing. Maybe over time, the titanium would weaken...

"Derek," Scott said quietly, dropping his head backward once more to look over at the other beta. "Derek…?"

Derek didn't answer. He was staring with his blue wolf eyes into the shadows of the basement. He didn't move or make a sound.

Scott pulled harder against the cuffs. He could feel his skin and muscles bleeding and healing around the metal with every tug. "Derek," he said louder. "We have to... we have to get out..."

"Don't talk to me," said Derek, his tone hard, finally turning his head to look at Scott. "Don't even look at me. This is all because you have too much of a golden moral code to do what needs to be done. This is because of you."

Scott took labored breaths, staring back at Derek. "What needs to be done?" His eyes slid disbelievingly over Derek's unreadable face. "Derek, you sound like him."

Derek's eyes flashed at Scott and his lips pulled upward, revealing his sharp canines in a clear warning. "I said... don't open your mouth to me, Scott. Speak to me again and I'll kill you myself."

Scott stared at him. His arms were trembling from the effort he was exerting to fight the cuffs.

Derek turned his face away, closing his eyes for a long moment. Then he opened them again, but only to stare angrily into the darkness.

"No..." Scott muttered quietly, not sure if he was talking to Derek or to himself. Either way, Derek gave no sign of hearing him. "No... this won't happen. We're getting out of here… we'll get free... I have to find a way."

As he spoke, he stopped struggling against the cuffs. His eyes flickered back and forth as his mind reeled over the possibilities. He tried to think of options... he attempted to form a plan, logically and without emotions getting in his way... But nothing occurred to him. No game-changing, life-saving ideas appeared in his mind despite his sober efforts. He looked around the basement again, and his mind was frustratingly blank of anything useful.

His fallen shoe was lying nearby. Scott stared at it for longer than necessary, gazing desperately at the sides of it, and at the white and black sole. His eyes fell on the laces. The ends of the laces were long, hard, and thin, encased in strong plastic.

 _What if... would it be possible..._

Scott had never picked a lock before, but like most curious teenagers, he had watched a lot of YouTube videos about obscure and questionable things.

Maybe... just maybe... there was a possibility this could work...

Without further hesitation, Scott pushed himself away from the wall as far as he could. He stretched his legs across the floor, leaning to one side, and reaching further. The tips of his toes brushed against the side of the shoe.

A few meters away, Derek silently turned his head to watch him.

Scott groaned with effort, his face scrunched up. His toes brushed the side of the shoe again, and he strained harder against the cuffs, his lower half extending a little further. The loop of the shoelace touched his little toe. Scott banged the back of his head against the wall with effort, and millimeter by millimeter, his foot slid closer. Finally, he was able to slip his big toe through the shoe lace loop. With a loud grunt he lifted his foot.

The shoelace caught on his toe and the loop slid securely to the base. With an long exhale, Scott bent his knees and pushed himself upright once more. He maneuvered himself into a half-kneeling position with difficulty, careful not to drop the shoe, and started using his foot to nudge it behind him. Scott wasn't the most flexible guy, but in that moment of sudden hope, his body had forgotten that. His legs bent until he was sitting on them sideways and he angled his torso, his bound hands reaching for the shoe.

His swollen fingers touched the rough fabric and he grabbed it immediately. He let his feet relax and straightened his legs back out, taking a quick moment to breathe.

"You think you can pick a lock with a shoe lace?" Muttered Derek quietly.

Scott didn't answer him. Once the shoe was in his hand he worked his aching fingers until he had removed the lace. His fingers inched along the lace until he found the hard plastic end. Then, with a wince of concentration on his face, he angled the tip of the shoe lace, feeling around with the fingers of his other hand to find the latch. It was a single-lock cuff... Scott hoped that meant it would be easier.

He reached into his memory for that one video he came across, that one night, months ago... he had been interested, so he kept watching... what had the man been saying...?

 _"So, what you have here is a regular bobby pin,"_ Scott remembered. _"And what you're going to do, you're going to straighten it out, and remove these little rubber ends here... stick it into the lock about halfway... not all the way, go about half way, and stop..."_

His heart beating wildly, Scott slowly pressed the tip of the shoe lace into the little slit he could feel beside the latch. He pushed it all the way in until it hit metal, and then carefully pulled it about halfway back out.

 _"Bend the bobby pin all the way to the right..."_

Scott began to bend the tip, careful not to break it. He didn't feel it snap, so he bent it all the way.

 _"Now, you can see this double lock isn't engaged, look at that bar there in the second lock... so you only need to pick the single lock. How you do that is, with this bobby pin stuck halfway in, you're going to use the curved edge of the pin and you're going to rotate it to the right, clockwise... you see that? Rotate it until you hear the click..."_

With his heart in his throat Scott started to rotate the lace by the base of the tip. He could feel resistance, and something caught against the lace inside the lock. He hesitated.

"Is it working?" said Derek quietly.

"Hold on," breathed Scott, and held his breath again. He started turning the tip of the shoe lace again, through whatever had caught it. And suddenly he heard a click. It made his veins run hot and then cold.

"Did it just work?" Said Derek more loudly, now openly watching Scott's progress.

Scott tugged on his wrist, and the tight cuff slid open. It dropped off his arm to hang from the other cuff, and in the same moment, Scott lept away from the wall, turning to face his one remaining cuff. He grabbed at it with his free hand.

Scott could hear Derek's heart rate increase as he watched the younger beta pick the second lock.

This time, the tip of the lace cracked in half the moment he tried to bend it, so he quickly went to the other end of the lace. Soon he had his other hand free, and he dropped the titanium cuffs onto the floorboards in disgust.

Scott was at Derek's side the next moment. He tried to push Derek's face to the side so he could access the cuffs behind the older beta's back. Pulling the cuffs as close as he could, he felt around for the latch, and began to pick the lock. After about a minute of intense concentration, he heard the first lock click and one of Derek's cuffs slid off, freeing his hand.

Derek moved away from the wall, pulling his arm out of the painful position, and turning to tug at the other cuff. Not pausing even for a moment, Scott pushed Derek's hand out of the way and set to work on the second cuff. Derek shook his head in grudging admiration, and leaned out of the way.

But then they heard a sound that stopped them both cold. They froze into statues.

Upstairs, the front door had opened and closed. Footsteps creaked across the wooden floor above them, coming to a stop outside the basement door.

Scott turned a pale face to look at Derek in the darkness.

"Run!" Mouthed Derek, his eyes wild, making no sound. He shoved at Scott with his free hand. "Get out! Go for the exit hatch!"

Scott was still frozen on the edge of uncertainty.

There was the sound of a key scraping in the lock of the basement door.

Then Scott leaned forward and shoved the shoe lace into Derek's hand, before leaping back to his place by the pipe as silently as possible. He grabbed up his discarded cuffs, hoping the noise would sound like the struggling he had been doing before Peter left. He dropped onto the floor with his back to the wall, and held his hands behind his back, his fingers gripping the titanium cuffs tightly. His eyes shot toward Derek.

"You idiot..." Derek mouthed at him with wide, angry eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving you here," Scott mouthed back, his eyes hard and stubborn.

The basement door opened and a pale shaft of light filtered down the stairwell, sending dim light and shadows skittering across the basement floor. Someone came slowly down the stairs.

There was no question in Scott's mind that is was Peter... he could smell the alpha's scent before the basement door had opened.

Peter reached the bottom of the stairs, and smiled first to Derek, and then to Scott. He held something in his hand that Scott had to look twice at. It looked like a small metal broom handle... and something protruded from the end, glowing red hot.

Scott could smell burning metal.

"I hope I wasn't too long," said Peter calmly, walking across the floor and stopping about a meter from Scott, halfway between the two betas. He tapped the metal instrument on his shoulder, his eyes flicking coldly to Scott once more.

Derek was staring at the metal object with a look of utter disbelief on his face. He started to shake his head slowly. "No... you're not... you don't actually think..."

"It's not that old fashioned, Derek," Peter intoned, lowering the tip of the instrument into his other hand and studying it fondly. "We've only been doing tattoos for a hundred years, give or take."

Scott looked between Peter and Derek, nonplussed. He didn't understand.

"I get it, you know that I know what we have to do." Derek's voice had a level of incredulity that Scott had never heard before, and it set him on edge. "You know I feel the same way you do. But he said no. If you brand him, you're breaking every rule."

Peter clicked his tongue and shook his head at his nephew. "I'm the alpha, Derek," he said silkily. "I make the rules."

 _Brand him?_

Scott was slowly making sense of it, and then it hit him. He looked back at the metal instrument with a glint of foreboding in his eyes.

Derek growled and flashed his wolf eyes. "Don't do it. There would be no going back."

Peter chuckled. "If you think this is the worst I have planned, you must not have as much faith in the stubbornness of Scott McCall as I do."

"If you brand him, I'll kill you..." Derek's voice was icy and low, and it cut through the musty air like a whip.

But Peter's smile only grew. The alpha turned away from Derek and took a step closer to Scott, who tightened his grip on the cuffs behind his back.

But Peter stopped, his eyes leaving Scott's face and glancing to the nearby shoe. He stared at it for a moment, his expression unchanging. Then he slowly walked over to it, and picked it up.

Scott cursed himself inwardly. How had he not remembered to kick the shoe into the shadows?

"Hmm," murmured Peter, turning the shoe over in his hand and studying it. He glanced at Scott. "If I remember right, the last time I saw this shoe, it had laces."

There a long moment of silence. All three werewolves listened closely to the heartbeats of the other two.

Peter licked his lips, his smirk gone. He looked calmly in Derek's direction, and then down at Scott. "Do I look stupid to you, Scott?"

Scott felt as though a cube of ice was sliding down his throat to lodge in his chest.

"Scott!" Derek said loudly. "Get the hell out of here! NOW!"

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 **Ohhh boy, now it's really getting started ;P Reviews are like a tender kiss!**


	6. Foreboding

**Chapter Six**

 **"Foreboding"**

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Scott couldn't make up his mind. He hovered on the spot between reason and loyalty. His knuckles turned white around the metal cuffs behind his back as he looked up at Peter, with Derek's shout still ringing in his ears.

"Scott! MOVE!" Yelled Derek again.

But Scott had squandered the few short seconds he had been given to make a move.

Peter dropped the shoe and lunged toward him, eyes red, face shifting.

Scott scrambled to his feet and dodged to one side, ducking his head, and turning around to face Peter. As the alpha came at him again, Scott jumped sideways. Spinning on the spot, he ducked his head down and lurched toward Peter, his shoulders catching the man hard in the gut as his clawed fingers dug fiercely into the man's stomach. He gauged and slashed at Peter with his claws, trying to buy some time.

Peter swung an arm and struck Scott to one side with ease, but Scott didn't fall. He skidded to a stop on the wooden floorboards and whirled around to face Peter again. He crouched low, his canines bared and his eyes flashing gold.

The alpha was too fast, and too strong. With a powerful leap, Peter twisted in the air and took him down. The two of them landed in a tangle, their growls rattling the walls. Scott kicked out his feet and tried to push himself away from Peter, but the alpha was on him again before he could take a breath.

Peter held him down by the shoulders as Derek's growls continued in the background. The alpha lowered his head close to Scott's, and let out an ear-piercing, stomach-turning roar. Scott turned his face away when Peter's hot breath rushed over him. Tiny flecks of spittle dotted his skin.

"Uncle - stop!" Snarled Derek, but Peter paid him no mind.

The alpha didn't look away from the side of Scott's face. Slowly, Scott turned his head back to look at Peter, eyes still golden, face still shifted. He drew in a deep breath and returned the roar. His roar took him by surprise, and it must have taken the other two by surprise too, because for a moment no one moved or said anything.

Then Peter's nails dug deeper into Scott's shoulders. "You won't be easy," Peter growled in an undertone. He backhanded Scott hard, disorienting him, then flipped the boy over onto his stomach.

The picked cuffs lay forgotten beneath the titanium pipe.

Scott had the wind knocked out of him when he landed on his chest. He coughed loudly, his arms scrabbling on the floor as he tried to get some traction, and he was using his legs as weapons, but it was useless. Peter's weight dropped onto his lower back, holding him down, and Scott felt sharp claws pierce through his muscles at his shoulder blades.

"Let me up," growled Scott, his face pressing against the dusty floor.

The sound of metal dragging on wood was the answer he got. He tried to turn his head, and all he could see was Peter's leg, and his arm. The alpha was holding the branding iron again, and the tip still glowed hot.

"Don't..." Scott muttered, fear seizing him, but he tried to keep it hidden. "Don't do that, don't..."

Peter seemed beyond his usual light-hearted smirks. He bent down so Scott could see his face. "Two roads converged in a wood." His voice was quiet and bone-chilling. "I took the road less travelled by, and you... you, Scott, will make all the difference."

Scott let out a sound of frustration. "I don't know what that means! Let me up, Peter - "

"Uncle!" Derek's voice sounded hoarse. "Uncle, please - he's a kid - you can't do this."

"He's a werewolf, Derek," said Peter quietly, watching the side of Scott's face. "Just like any other werewolf. He'll kill when he's angry, or when he's hungry... he'll kill for revenge... he'll kill for love... but he'll rise above all that." Peter turned his head to look at Derek. "He'll rise above you, above any of the rest of them. But..." He looked back down at Scott. "Not without my help."

"You don't want to help him, you want to turn him into your beta. But he said no."

"And the only price I'll ask for my help, when he finally comes around," Peter continued as though deaf to Derek's interjections. "Is that he fights by my side when the time comes."

"I won't," said Scott, his voice muffled by the floorboards. The sting of Peter's claws deep in his shoulder blades kept him on edge. "I'll never kill my friends, or anyone."

Peter released one of Scott's shoulders, drawing his claws out of the boy's muscle. Trails of blood wound their way down Scott's sides from the deep punctures, and they didn't start to heal.

A sharp claw touched the top of his spine, piercing it lightly. Only deeply enough to cut skin. Peter trailed the claw gently down Scott's spine, leaving a shallow, bleeding scratch. Scott felt shivers up and down his back.

Derek's voice rang out suddenly. "Stop! I'll kill you!"

Scott's eyes widened and he tried to turn his head further, but he couldn't see.

The next moment, something white hot pressed down on Scott's upper back, between his shoulder blades. He raised his head, a sharp cry escaping past his clenched teeth. The basement filled with Derek's feral roars, and the white hot pain continued. Scott could smell his own burning flesh.

"No," he ground out, bucking around on the floor, trying to get loose. But Peter held him firm.

Scott felt the branding iron leave his skin, but the pain continued. His flesh continued to smoke and burn. He tossed his head, but none of his struggling had any effect on the alpha. Peter's claws were dug so deeply into Scott's shoulder the boy could feel them scraping bone. He couldn't move.

All of Scott's senses were in overload, and he could hear Peter doing something else now. Breathing hard, he gave another sharp struggle.

Peter had removed a small, metal box from the pocket of his blazer. He set it on the floor and opened the box with his free hand, reaching in with two fingers. A grimace twisted his features, and he pulled something out before closing the box again, and straightening over Scott once more. His fingers were covered in a fine purple powder. He reached over the angry, red burn of the new brand and rubbed his fingers together, dropping some powder into the burn where it hissed and smoked.

Scott gasped. The pain multiplied tenfold all of a sudden, and his whole body weakened.

"Wolfsbane," murmured Peter delightedly. "To keep the scar from fading." Peter bent closer and blew hard across the branded skin. The powder spread to cover the whole area, sticking to the moist, injured skin and coloring it light purple.

"You bastard..." came Derek's voice, out of breath. "You're dead."

Scott was reeling from the pain. It seemed to spread throughout his whole body, flowing through his veins, making his skin tingle and his muscles ache. But after a moment, the pain subsided, leaving him panting for breath on the floor, held down by Peter.

Compared to the wolfsbane, the pain he felt now from the burn was barely a tickle.

"That wasn't so bad," Peter said in a soothing tone, and Scott felt the claws retract slightly from his shoulder blade. He made an instant bid for freedom, struggling harder than ever.

The claws sunk into him again and Peter leaned forward, forcing Scott to stop writhing. "Or... maybe it was so bad," the alpha said cruelly, clearly amused. "But you'll thank me for it Scott. Even if my nephew tries to kill me."

Scott forced his head around, trying to see Derek. Was the other beta using the laces? Why wasn't he free yet?

Derek did appear to be struggling with something behind his back, but the expression on his face when he met Scott's eyes didn't lend the boy any reassurance.

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Stiles pulled his Jeep into the McCalls' driveway and threw it into park, cutting the engine. He hopped out and approached the door, knocking on it a few times. Without waiting, he knocked a few more times, and then continued knocking incessantly.

Finally, Melissa McCall's weary face appeared as she opened the door, fixing a bleary, unhappy eye on Stiles. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Stiles' manner seemed somewhat urgent, but he paused to glance down at his watch, and back to Melissa. "It's 8:30," he answered without shame.

Melissa looked surprised at that, but she recovered, and rubbed a hand over her face. "I just got off a double shift, Stiles. What are you in such a hurry about?"

"I came to see Scott," said Styles innocently.

Melissa rolled her eyes, and turned away from the door. "Scott," she called loudly up the stairs. "Stiles is here. You can come inside," she added, turning back to Stiles. She stood back so he could pass her, and closed the door behind him.

No one had answered from upstairs.

"Scott!" Yelled Melissa, her patience wearing thin.

"Did he come home tonight?" Asked Stiles, and it looked like he had purpose in his eyes.

"Yeah, he's probably upstairs," answered Melissa, heading for the stairwell. "I mean, I assume he did... why wouldn't he?"

Stiles stared at her for a moment, and then he pushed past her to climb the stairs two at a time. He banged open Scott's bedroom door, looking around inside. "He's not here," he said, coming back into the hall and looking down the stairs at Melissa.

Melissa frowned, rubbing her eyes. "Oh... did you check the field? Maybe he's training, he seems really into lacrosse these days. Not that he tells me a lot about what's going on his life... not that he tells me anything, actually," she began to ramble. "It would be nice to hear a little something, every now and then, and not have to chase him around the house to hear - "

"Mrs. McCall," Stiles interrupted urgently, but with an apologetic look in his eyes. "I checked the field. And... I checked my phone." He held up the phone, his own frown deepening. "I had a text from him after the game."

Melissa had a look of relief to hear that. "Good. Then go cause trouble and find him yourself, I'm exhausted. I'm going back to bed."

Stiles opened his mouth as if to say something more, but he stopped. Melissa turned and walked down the hall, disappearing from view, and he heard a door close.

Stiles sighed tensely, and looked down at his phone. He looked over the text again.

 _Scott:_

 _hey styles, I won't be able to make it to the park._

 _Scott:_

 _im staying late at work, a few injured dogs came in and they need surgery._

 _Scott:_

 _I won't be around tomorrow either, there's a lot to do here. later man_

Stiles read the texts over and over. Scott had never in ten years typo'd Stile's name. Not once. And he had never said 'later man' either.

Something was wrong, and Stiles knew it. The foreboding crept up through his chest, and he couldn't ignore it.

He pocketed his phone and jogged down the stairs two at a time. He would pay a visit to the animal clinic, and get this strange feeling off his shoulders.

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 **Epic Scott whump in the next chapter. Have a blast! And leave a review, love birds!**


	7. Courage

**Chapter Seven**

 **"Courage"**

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The tires of Stiles' jeep screeched to a halt in front of the animal clinic. Stiles didn't bother to park in the lot, but left the vehicle running by the side of the curb. He jogged over to the door and knocked on it, then rang the bell for emergency assistance, rang it again, and went back to knocking on the door.

Deaton's face appeared on the other side of the glass. The older man looked baffled and a little annoyed as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He watched Stiles silently, awaiting an explanation.

Stiles cleared his throat, trying to appear more casual. "Uh - hey, uh, how's it - uh..." He rubbed a hand over his short hair, smiling awkwardly. "I'm a friend of Scott's, I need to see him. Family emergency..." Stiles trailed off as he held up his phone for a second.

Deaton took a good long look in both directions, up and down the street, before looking at Stiles again. "Look..."

"Stiles," supplied Stiles impatiently.

"Stiles," obliged Deaton, opening the door more fully and pushing his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. "The hours are posted on the door, eight to seven-thirty. I'm sorry, but we're closed."

"I know, I get it - I just have to see Scott," said Stiles with increasing urgency.

Deaton shook his head. "Scott doesn't stay here after hours, Stiles. You wouldn't have been able to find him here at this hour. You wouldn't have had any luck earlier, though, either. Scott didn't show up for work today."

Stiles felt his heart sink. "What, you mean... he called out sick or something?"

"No, I didn't get a call from him. It's not like him at all." The gaze he levelled on Stiles was almost like an X-ray.

Stiles took a step back, nodding his head. He felt cold and clueless. Something was very wrong.

"So you haven't heard from him at all tonight..." he said apprehensively.

Deaton gave him a strange look. "Is something going on, Stiles? Something I should know about?"

Stiles looked down at his phone, and scrolled through the texts from Scott's number. His breathing was a little uneven.

"Stiles," pressed Deaton calmly.

Stiles looked up again. "I don't know where my friend is," he blurted out in an undertone. "I have to go." Without waiting for a reply, Stiles turned, raising his phone to his ear as he jogged back to his Jeep.

On the other end of the line, he heard the phone ring three times. Finally, there was a click as the call was answered.

"Hello?"

"Allison," breathed Stiles with a flood of relief. "You have to listen to me, ok - ?"

"Stiles?" Came Allison's voice, sounding confused. "What's going on?"

"Listen, Allison," said Stiles urgently. "Are you listening?"

There was a pause. Then Allison's voice returned, sounding even more bewildered. "Yes..."

Stiles jumped into the front seat of the Jeep, and turned the key. The engine roared to life. "I need to see your dad, Allison. Right now, tonight."

Another pause. "My... my Dad? Stiles, what on earth are you - ?"

"Allison!" Stiles barely refrained from shouting. "Tell him to meet me at the park, tell him it's about Derek. He'll know what I mean. Allison, please."

There was a small, incredulous chuckle on the other end of the line, but Allison sounded worried. "Okay," she agreed. "Alright, I'll go get him. Stiles - is Scott with you?"

"Tell him to step on it," said Stiles grimly, and he hung up the phone.

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The weakening effects of the wolfsbane had subsided.

Scott made a sharp grunting sound as Peter lifted off of him. When he felt the sudden relief, he kicked himself back into go mode. His feet shot under him and he jumped up. Peter's arm came out of nowhere, circling tightly around his chest and he was thrown backward against the staircase.

Scott hit the stairs hard. Wood splintered around him, flying in different directions. He tried to roll, but Peter's legs were blocking his way. He reached blindly for the railing and grabbed onto it, using it to lift himself up. His legs swung around in a wide arc into Peter, fast as the blink of an eye. Peter went flying backward. He hit the wall and tumbled to all fours.

That was when the alpha's real shift began.

Peter's already-broad frame lengthened, his muscles bulging against his jacket. The strong fabric of his shirt and jacket ripped, and the garment fell off him in tatters. His shoulders elongated and the length of his arms extended quickly with painful snapping sounds.

It all happened in the span of a breath.

Suddenly the alpha crouched before Scott in all his glory: black, fur-covered skin stretched across broad, rippling muscles; the alpha's eyes glowed red in his dark, elongated face. He raised his head to the ceiling and opened his jaws in an ear-splitting howl.

Scott tried to disentangle himself from the shattered stairs, with a gasp in Derek's direction. "Derek, what's taking so long?"

"The laces!" Yelled Derek. He had stopped caring whether Peter found out, and he wasn't bothering to hold his free hand behind his back anymore. "They're broken, both ends - they're useless! Just get out of here!"

Scott cursed inwardly, his eyes shooting back to the alpha. He scrambled a few steps back and lowered down, his claws digging deeply into the floor. His eyes pulsed gold as he squared to Peter, his heart beating a violent tattoo against the inside of his ribs.

"GET THE HELL OUT!"

But Scott ignored Derek's command.

The alpha charged.

Scott was as ready as he could be. He ran forward at the same time as Peter, lowering his shoulders and catching Peter around the middle in a violent clash. The two of them spun in a whirl; Scott trying to get Peter off his feet, and Peter toying with Scott a little, keeping him slightly at bay.

Scott tore into Peter's torso with his nails, taking great swipes as he fought to get to him.

Peter gave a mighty shove, and Scott was hurled backward. Scott landed on his back and skidded along the floorboards, raising his head just in time to see the alpha's enormous form launching toward him from above.

Scott bent his knees and arched his back, kicking hard as he could as Peter lunged. He caught the alpha in the groin, sending him flying past in a tumble of limbs.

Scott's kick flipped Peter in mid-air, and he hit the opposite wall, landing on his head. Quickly righting himself, he gave his head a little shake, and turned around to face Scott again. His lips twitched with a loud, dangerous growl.

Scott knew the only way out of this was to keep fighting, or he would be killed.

This time, it was Scott that charged. With an angry roar he launched toward Peter's dark, hulking form.

As Peter leaped to receive him, Scott jumped high into the air, avoiding Peter's flashing claws. His nails dug into Peter's shoulder from the air and the beta swung around, fastening himself to the alpha's back. He clung with his legs and slashed at the back of Peter's neck with his hands, twisting his body sharply to try to unbalance his opponent.

Peter roared, reaching over his shoulder and slashing at Scott, trying to dislodge him. Scott felt the slashes and he felt the blood, but not the pain.

Peter grabbed onto Scott's legs, his nails puncturing muscle, and slammed backward into the wall. The wall gave in, and Scott and Peter fell into the thick cloud of dust and ash behind it. Scott rolled away from Peter and whirled around to face him again, blood streaming from his injuries. His eyes were sharp through the fog of ashes, and he could see the gleaming streams of blood on the alpha as well. But those injuries were already healing before his eyes... his own were not.

The alpha didn't give Scott a chance to recuperate. He attacked again, and Scott found himself forced backward through the hole in the wall. He tripped on the broken wood, and scrambled back to his feet just in time to avoid a vicious strike to his face. Peter jumped back into the basement and attacked in earnest. He ran toward Scott, who jumped backward onto a table.

But Peter was a step ahead of him. The alpha swiftly kicked the front legs out from under the table, sending Scott flying toward him.

Scott used his sudden momentum to jump again, trying not to collide with Peter. He almost cleared the alpha, but Peter grabbed onto one of his legs, forcing him out of the air and slamming him to the ground.

Scott kicked with his free leg, adrenaline and fear pumping through his veins.

Peter lifted him by the leg again, and slammed him down once more. Then he jumped over him, landing with his feet on either side of Scott's shoulders. He grasped the boy by the neck and heaved him off the floor.

With supernatural strength, Peter flung him backward against the wall. When Scott hit the wall he almost fell forward, losing his bearings, but Peter was already on him.

The alpha raised his arm and delivered a lightning fast strike, his nails gauging deeply into the boy's stomach, and ripping through.

Scott gave a choked-off cry of pain and doubled over, wrapping his arms around his middle. He dropped to his knees, curling inward, his breaths catching in his throat as he fell forward, barely catching himself on one arm. He could feel warm blood rushing past his other arm from the deep wounds, trickling heavily to the floor. He groaned, trying to look up, turning halfway onto his side to see the alpha. He tried to push himself along the floor.

The alpha drew nearer. Even on that wolf-like, alien face, Scott thought he could see a smirk of victory.

The alpha bent over him, kneeling. He put a long, clawed hand on Scott's chest and pushed down. Scott's arm was pushed from under him and he collapsed to the floor under Peter's hand. He kept his arm curled tightly around his deep wounds.

Peter brought his unrecognizably shifted face close to Scott's, looking him in the eyes. Then, he broke eye contact, raising his head and opening his mouth. The victory roar that followed was just like the one that had followed Derek's defeat.

The power of the sound made Scott's bones vibrate and his head spin. He dropped his head to the floor, trying to focus on breathing. The resounding howl caught him in the chest, capturing his mind momentarily. He felt so drawn to it, and so commanded by it. He needed to fight it, he needed to end it... that roar wouldn't take him...

Another roar joined the alpha's, and it was a moment before Scott realized it was his own roar. A rough, keening roar that rose from his lips in desperation.

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Derek had exhausted the option of picking the locks. He had broken the ends of the laces... his touch didn't have as much finesse as Scott's apparently did.

As the roars of the other two filled the room and echoed off the walls as they fought, Derek's eyes were searching frantically around him. The pipe was too strong, and the cuffs weren't giving him an inch. He would have to find another way... and soon.

He tugged hard on the cuffs, jerking them roughly, drawing blood from his wrists. He turned around and sat back, leaning away, and kicked at the pipe with his feet, looking for weaknesses.

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 **Thank you for your wonderful reviews! Hugs and kisses! ; ) Please keep them coming, they keep the wheel spinning! Warning: next chapter will contain attempted noncon that involves a minor. Aka sexual assault. If this is a trigger, please avoid! I love you all.**


	8. Weakness

**WARNING: This chapter contains material that may be a trigger for some individuals. This chapter contains the attempted sexual assault of a minor. This chapter contains mild profanity.**

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 **Chapter Eight**

 **"Weakness"**

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Scott lay on his back on the floor, curled sideways with one arm covering his stomach wounds protectively. Peter's clawed hand had not left his shoulder, but the older man's body had shifted back to human; all of him except his gleaming, scarlet eyes. The alpha stared down at him with triumph, breathing hard.

There was something else in his eyes too... Scott couldn't place it, but it sent a cold chill up his spine.

"That wasn't the howl of submission I was hoping for," said Peter smoothly, leaning close to Scott again. He loomed above him, blocking out the faint light from the stairwell.

Scott could feel fresh blood flowing continuously past his arms from the gauges in his torso. "I won't," he ground out between panting breaths. "You can't..."

"Can't I, Scott?" Peter looked as though a touch of humor might reappear. "Won't you? Usually I would say, hey, it's just a matter of leverage... but not tonight. Tonight, I think it's about something else."

Scott said nothing. His face was contorted in pain, and his jaw clenched. Sweat beaded on his skin, mixing with rivulets of blood.

"There are things I could do to you, Scott..." Peter continued, his voice soft but menacing. "Things that would change you forever. Do you really want it to come to that?"

"I don't... I don't - I don't know what you're talking about," heaved Scott through his teeth.

Peter made a soft sound in his throat, almost like a chuckle, a very unsettling sound. "Do you want to know?" He asked silkily. His calloused hand slid up Scott's chest to the base of his throat.

Adrenaline shot through Scott, forcing him to uncover his stomach wounds, reaching up to grasp onto Peter's arm with both hands. "No," he rasped breathlessly. "I won't be what you want me to be, it doesn't matter what you do!"

"Careful," warned Peter. The sharp edges of his claws caressed the sides of Scott's neck. "I can tell you one thing for sure. Listen well... it would be a very, very bad idea for you to challenge me right now."

Scott fell silent, letting his head drop back. He was deaf to the sounds of Derek's persistent struggles against the loud metal pipe. He needed to at least control his blood loss... he couldn't afford to start feeling it.

Peter didn't give him the opportunity to focus on that.

The alpha's grip tightened at the base of his throat, and suddenly he was being thrown through the air again. He landed on his stomach halfway through the broken wall, coughing as dust from his landing filled his lungs. Pain radiated up and down his body from the impact of the splinters of wood on his wounds. He quickly tried to turn back over.

Peter prevented him, landing with one foot on either side of Scott's hips. He shoved the boy further into the dusty room, partially blocked from Derek's sight. Scott thrashed his body, but he couldn't squirm loose from Peter's iron grasp.

The alpha straddled his lower back and sat on him, holding him down again by the back of the neck, just like before. Scott's lungs were so tight he could barely breathe. Dust and ashes smeared painfully into the deep cuts in his stomach. Anger and fear filled his chest... the alpha was toying with him.

"Let me - go!" He growled, his voice muffled against the dirty floor.

Peter ignored his struggles. "I've followed you, Scott McCall," he whispered.

Scott could feel the alpha's warm breath close to the back of his neck.

"I've seen you. You like to spend time with that Argent girl..." his voice had become smooth and soft, almost soothing. "You like her a lot, don't you, Scott? What's her name again? Allie. No... Allison. You like her enough to kiss her..."

Scott's face started to heat up against his will.

"You like to touch her, don't you Scott? I bet you wish you could just sweep her off her feet, and fuck her right there on her daddy's doorstep, don't you?"

Scott could only loose growl after incoherent growl.

"Am I wrong?" Said Peter lightly, amused by Scott's reaction. "You want to bend her over the front steps and fuck her until she can't walk straight."

"Stop!" Scott's growl turned into a furious yell. "Shut up!"

Peter grabbed for Scott's arms. He yanked them backward, crossing them behind Scott's back, and pinning them there. Scott's angry sounds of protest echoed off the walls.

"Uncle Peter!" Derek yelled from the other room. All he could see of them was Scott's legs, and Peter's back. "Let me talk to him again, I can change his mind." The rattling of Derek's cuffs against the titanium pipe intensified.

"Don't worry about it, Derek," called Peter casually. "Just worry about breaking those titanium cuffs, that's more than enough on your plate."

"Peter! Listen to me, don't - " Derek tried again.

"Tell me what to do one more time, nephew. I would love to show you what happens when I really get angry. Let me deal with this outcast the best way I know how."

"No, you can't do that, Peter." Derek was starting to sound a little desperate. "You're not thinking straight - you know you can't - you know - "

But Scott blocked out the rest of whatever Derek had said when he felt Peter bend close to him again.

The alpha ignored his nephew's appeals. "I even follow you home, Scott..." he demurred, his breath ruffling the hair behind Scott's ear. "You like that Argent so much that you touch yourself when you think you're alone... what do you think about her, Scott? What is it about her that makes your eyes glow, and your face all flushed?"

Scott was silent, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't tell where this was leading, but he wanted to melt into the floor.

"It's ok, you can answer me," said Peter softly. His voice had taken on a quieter, silkier tone, almost soothing. "Be honest with me. Is it her soft skin? Her soft, supple skin, or the firm curves of her breasts? The way it feels when those warm, firm mounds press against your chest?" Peter gave him a gentle shake from above. "That's not all, though, is it? You think about what you want to do to that hard little body of hers... You want to take her hard little nipples between your lips, don't you? You want to lick her warm, dewy body, all the way to her sweet, sweet center..."

Fiery anger burned in Scott's chest, making his veins hot with adrenaline. "Stop talking about Allison," he snarled. His face reddened with every word.

"Why? It's true, isn't it? Tell me the truth. You think about her when you touch yourself. You think about taking those nipples between your teeth... you imagine what she tastes like..." Peter's tongue flicked out to touch the rim of Scott's ear.

Was this some sort of tactic to both humiliate Scott, and illustrate why he deserved more punishment? Because he betrayed the werewolf race by falling in love with Allison?

Peter continued softly, his grip tight, holding Scott's arms across each other behind his back. "You think about it all the time, Scott... you could just throw her down across the desk and take her, in front of the whole class..."

"Stop!" Growled Scott again. He still had no idea where this was going, but he was having a hard time blocking out the imagery that Peter was describing. It was very difficult to lock down his mind against the unexpected attack.

"But I'm right," murmured Peter. "I can prove it."

Then Scott felt something that made his blood run cold.

Peter had pushed an arm underneath Scott at his hip, feeling around beneath him, grabbing onto him through his pants. Scott gasped and hit his forehead against the floor, arching his back upward as he tried to escape Peter's touch.

Shock and fear filled his veins, chasing away the anger.

"There you are..." Peter hushed, rubbing Scott roughly through the crotch of his jeans.

Scott grunted as Peter's fingers tightened, and panic threatened him. "Wait - wait - what are you - ?" Scott cried out, his voice cracking. "Don't - don't do that!"

Peter continued to rub him, getting rougher. "See? I was right," murmured Peter, and Scott felt the alpha's tongue along the rim of his ear again. "You do think about her. You're thinking... about her... right... now..."

"Get off me," croaked Scott. Tingles were beginning in his navel; despite his horror, his body was responding to Peter's unwanted ministrations. "Please..."

"Don't fight it," Peter whispered. "Give me what I want, Scott."

The tingles in Scott's navel intensified. A rush of fear and emotion flooded him, and he blew a gasket. "No!" His strangled yell was cut off by his own tight throat, but suddenly his struggles were stronger. He pitched his hips and tried to angle his knees, desperate to cut off Peter's access. "Stop!"

"Are you getting close?" Peter murmured with sinister enjoyment. "Don't try to hold back, Scott."

With a great rustling, Peter repositioned Scott, then lowered his head. The alpha bit down on the back of Scott's neck, forcing his hand into the hem of the boy's jeans and briefs. Scott gave a hoarse yell as Peter cupped him between his legs, skin to skin. The pleasurable tingles hit him in waves, but his mind was haywire. Heat rose in his stomach and he almost retched, trying to turn his face the other way. Peter's teeth around his neck made it impossible.

"Please..." he gasped, retching again. "I'm going to be sick - "

"Shh... stop fighting, Scott. This isn't even the best part yet."

Scott retched harder and longer. There was nothing in his stomach to bring up.

The sensation of pressure was building toward a breaking point. Scott gasped, his muscles trembling. Sweat rolled off his face and sides as he tried to hold his body back.

But just before he thought he couldn't hold back any longer, Peter abruptly stopped rubbing him, and pulled his arm out from underneath the boy. Scott was left face down, arms pinned behind him, his breath coming in short bursts and his whole body shaking.

"Just kidding," said Peter with more than a hint of sinister enjoyment. The sound of his voice made Scott lurch a little under him, still fighting his body's physical reaction to what Peter had done. "You didn't really think you would be the one to have all the fun tonight, did you, Scott?"

Scott felt Peter grab the back of his pants at the waist, and give a mighty tug. He was trying to pull down Scott's jeans.

"No..." breathed Scott hoarsely, "Stop. Please - "

Peter paused, staring down at the side of Scott's sweat-slicked face. He watched the sweat beading and dripping off his neck, the beautiful gleam of sweat and blood all over the boy's skin. "What will you do for me if I stop right now?"

Scott's breathing hitched. "I don't - I don't know... please just let me go..."

"I asked you," whispered Peter, giving the back of Scott's jeans a suggestive tug, "What will do you for me if I let you go? What will you give me, if I don't have my way with you?"

"I don't - I can't - "

"You can't join my pack?"

Scott squeezed his red eyes shut. He couldn't answer.

Peter only waited a few moments more. Then with a short exhale, he yanked Scott's pants again, sliding the jeans off Scott's backside, so that his dark gray briefs were his only protection.

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Derek knew his uncle's intentions from the moment the older man had pinned the beta after the fight. He could hear every word, every heartbeat, every rustle of fabric.

Inside him, a feral, blinding rage was building...

There were no weaknesses in the titanium. The weakness had been in himself.

With a throat-ripping roar, Derek grabbed onto the hand that was still restrained by the dangling cuff.

Howling in rage, he took his bound hand in his free hand and crushed it between his fingers with all his strength. The bones snapped as his hand gave way; his knuckles collapsed into themselves under the force of his strength, and his fingers broke.

With another peal of pained and furious howls, he ripped his limp, broken hand free of the cuff.

Gripping himself by the wrist, he turned around, knees bent, to face the break in the basement wall, and the other two werewolves.


	9. The Second Attempt

**WARNING: This chapter contains material that may be a trigger for some individuals.**

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 **Chapter Nine**

 **"The Second Attempt"**

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Christopher Argent drove at top speed, with Stiles riding in the passenger seat. The SUV careened around a group of pedestrians and javelined down a side street. Stiles had his nose pressed to the window. The town was flying by, and there was no way these speeds were less than criminal. But Stiles wished Argent would drive faster.

"Tell me again," said Argent, spinning the wheel and catapulting the SUV down another series of dark alleyways. "How do you know Derek is involved?"

Stiles kept his face glued to the window. If he was going to die at high speeds, he wanted to see it coming. "Because he's the werewolf that's after Scott," he said, with a slight uptick in his heart rate. It was the easiest explanation, after all... There was the dreaded "alpha" he kept hearing about, but he had no idea who it was, so the best he could figure it... they would have to cross that bridge if they came to it.

"And he's after Scott McCall because..." Argent continued, keeping his eyes on the brightly-lit terrain ahead. He had a very discerning expression on his face.

"Yes!" Said Stiles impatiently, pealing his face from the glass. "Scott's a werewolf. How many times do I -?"

"I'm just trying to get the clearest possible picture," said Argent firmly. "That's my job, Stile."

"Stiles," Stiles corrected him restlessly. "I know it's your job, but - "

"How exactly did you find out what I do?" Interrupted Argent as the SUV rocketed across a trolley-track and down another alley. "My daughter doesn't know anything about the family business, and it's going to stay that way."

"Oh, I, uh..." Stiles paused and ran a hand over his short hair a few times. "Ok... you shot Scott with an arrow on the first full moon he shifted. Then he... kinda recognized you at school, when you came to pick up Allison."

Argent looked mildly surprised. He nodded after a moment. "Alright then. I had my suspicions about Scott, I'll admit that. But I didn't really think he was one of them. No one looks forward to hunting some kid that likes his daughter..." he stopped talking, apparently reconsidering. "Actually... you know? I think that's every father's dream," he said coldly, as if he were picturing it.

Stiles looked alarmed. "Ok, changing the subject...kind of..." he cleared his throat. "You agreed not to hurt Scott, right? I understand hunting them is your job, or whatever the hell you call it, but you can't kill Scott. He's never done anything to anyone. I swear, it broke his heart when he dissected a live lobster in bio lab, do you get it? He wouldn't hurt a fly, he's harmless. These other werewolves - Scott's not like them, and they want him in their pack."

Argent sent a sharp look in Stiles direction. "How many others? You only mentioned Derek. I need all the information, Stiles, don't leave anything out."

"First promise me you won't kill Scott," said Stiles stubbornly, fixing Argent with a beady stare.

Argent sighed. He threw the SUV into a higher gear and the vehicle plummeted down a hill and onto a dirt road toward the hills. "Listen, kid... we have a code. We never break the code. The code is the foundation of everything that we do, and there are no exceptions."

"How does that help Scott?"

"Be quiet for a second," said Argent abruptly, taking his foot off the accelerator. He was looking in his rearview mirror, a frown on his face.

Stiles turned around in his seat. He stared out the back windshield, but there was nothing he could see in the darkness behind them. He glanced back over to Argent. "What?"

Argent was silent for another moment, then he took his eyes off the rearview and looked forward again. He stepped down on the accelerator. "Nothing," he answered calmly.

Stiles raised one eyebrow. "Okay. Anyway, so the code..."

"We don't kill the innocent. We hunt those who hunt us, that's the code. If Scott's as clean as you think, he has nothing to fear from us."

Scott paused, chewing on the inside of his lip. "What about Derek?"

Argent glanced over at him briefly. "What about him? You said you think he took your friend. He's never seemed like the kind of creature that would bother abstaining from the killing, the murdering, the ripping apart of limbs that goes along with being a werewolf." Argent looked over at him, eyeing him closely. "But we won't kill him without proof of it. Now tell me everything, Stiles. There are more?"

Stiles looked a little pale. "Others? Uh - not, well... there might be one more, but we don't know anything about him."

Argent looked much more serious all of a sudden. "Nothing at all?"

Stiles shifted in his seat. "There's one thing... he's called an alpha. And he's nothing like Derek or Scott..."

Argent's grim expression darkened, and his eyes were shadowed as he looked back to the road, careening the vehicle left at a fork. He didn't say anything.

"So..." Stiles watched him awkwardly. He was unable to get rid of the anxiety in his chest. "So you know something about that?"

Argent didn't answer for a moment, focusing ahead of them as the shoulders of the road narrowed. He slowed the SUV. "An alpha is not something you want to mess with," he finally said. "Not unless you really know what you're doing."

"Good thing you know what you're doing," Stiles interjected with a hopeful, anxious grin.

"I would have brought back-up if I thought there could be an alpha involved." He pulled a cellphone from his pocket and flipped it open, dialing a number quickly, then held it to his ear.

Stiles dismissed that unsettling thought, and looked back out the window, pressing his face against it once more.

He ran through the possibilities in his head. Did this count as a betrayal against Scott? He had actively involved a werewolf hunter, without knowing the circumstances they were getting into. All he had were the warning signs of the past few days, and the gut feeling to tell him something had gone wrong... no proof... no details... no locations. But his mind was fixed on the old Hale house. Derek had been there before... maybe he would be there now...

"Stiles!"

Stiles turned his head fast enough to crick his neck. "Huh?"

Argent had closed his phone. "I asked how certain you are about where these creatures will be."

Stiles cleared his throat and scratched his temple. "That's, uh - I'm pretty sure... call it - uh... fifty-two percent sure. And 'creatures,' really? One of them is Scott."

Argent restrained an eye roll and nodded his head. The SUV rocketed onto a dirt road that lead into the woods. "You have no idea what's going on," he remarked. "But I'm going to check this out. I had my suspicions about Scott, but nothing solid, and you seem to think this is important enough to tell me about your friend, even knowing what I do."

Stiles sputtered, "What you do, yeah, but you're not going to hunt Scott."

Argent inhaled slowly and exhaled. "Not unless he hunts me. The code, Stiles. My sister Kate is meeting me at the Hale house. Never go up against an alpha alone."

Stiles turned away from Argent and stared out the window, pressing his face against it once more. Trees flew past as they journeyed deeper into the woods, and the road would be ending soon. "How far?"

"Not long. But you're staying well away from this one, kid. You're staying in the car."

"W-what?" Stiles stammered resentfully, whipping his head around. "No, I'm coming with you. I'm the one who told you what was happen -"

"You don't know what's going on," interrupted Argent. "We don't know what's actually happening, or if anything is happening at all. Either way, I won't risk getting a teenager killed in a war you only learned about five minutes ago. Don't argue with me, we do this my way."

"It's been more than five minutes..." said Stiles, trailing off in apparent defeat.

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Behind the SUV, a sleek, black sedan glided silently along the road in pursuit of the SUV. The car's headlights were turned off, and the engine made barely any noise. The sedan stayed well back from the vehicle it followed, hidden by the shadows of the night. It followed the SUV through the alleyways, over the trolley tracks, and onto the dirt roads toward the forest.

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Scott's eyes were shut tight. He pressed his face painfully into the floor, and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of pressure in his groin. He tried to pretend he couldn't still feel Peter's hand wrapped around him... but he couldn't get rid of it... the tingles it caused, and the horror he felt at the sensations Peter awoke... he couldn't seem to form a coherent thought. All his muscles were shaking... he could barely see. Everything looked red, as though a veil covered his eyes that he couldn't blink away.

He felt his jeans slide down past his backside. He wanted to retch again, but his muscles weren't responding. There were hot tears on his cheeks, and nothing made sense.

How could he ever face Derek after what had happened? How could he ever face _anyone?_

Neither Scott nor Peter noticed that Derek's loud struggles had ceased in the other room.

Peter's fingers were cold when they slipped under the hem of his briefs to remove them.

There was a groan of humiliation and fear lodged in Scott's throat. He clamped his teeth together painfully. His shock and panic prevented any words that tried to form on his lips, and his mind was sliding slowly away from reality.

" _I gave you the option, Scott..._ " Peter's words reached him softly, but he couldn't seem to understand them through the veil. " _You should have taken the gift. It's meant for only you, you know... And one day, you'll_ _agree, and you'll see it from my perspective..._ "

The voice was muted and distant. It echoed off the walls of Scott's mind, and he couldn't make sense of it. The words were meant for someone else, someone far away...

Peter could tell that Scott was fading, and he didn't want that. He wanted the boy to be present and coherent for every moment of this. "Hey," he said loudly, giving the side of Scott's face a rough slap. Scott flinched, but only slightly, and his breath was shallow. "Keep it together, Scott," growled Peter. "Keep your eyes open."

The alpha ran his hands along the sides of Scott's hips. He reveled in the boy's lean, strong form. His fingers traced their way along Scott's skin as he pulled down the boy's briefs, exposing the top of his buttocks. Little scratches followed Peter's lengthened fingernails down the curve of Scott's rump, and he let out a small chuckle. "I'm going to enjoy this more than I thought..." he murmured quietly, taking hold of Scott's briefs again.

Suddenly, something exploded over Peter's head. He grunted in surprise as splinters of wood clattered around him.

Derek had slammed a wooden plank on his head from behind.

"You little..." Peter began, jumping into a crouch to whirl around. But before the alpha could say anything else, Derek was pressing against him, holding a thick, broken piece of wood through his uncle's stomach. The large splinter had impaled him, and protruded from his back.

Peter stared at Derek, his eyes flashing from red to human, and back again. "You...?" He spluttered some blood, which dripped down his chin.

Without hesitation, Derek drove another sharp piece of wood through his uncle's middle.

Peter gasped, gurgling blood. His knees collapsed, and he fell to one side, his legs draped over Scott's immobile form.

Derek knew he only had a few minutes before Peter would be able to remove the stakes, and start to heal. He heaved his uncle off Scott's prone body, and knelt beside Scott in a flash.

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 **I know there's not as much action in this one as you were hoping for, but I set it up for the next chapter ;) Be excited. Never fear. Whump and hurt/comfort are here. The next chapter picks up directly where this chapter leaves off, without missing a beat.**


	10. The Final Attempt

**Chapter Ten**

 **"The Final Attempt"**

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Scott felt some pressure lift off his back. It was a vague, distant feeling, but it cleared his mind a little. He struggled weakly, yanking his arms out from behind him. He tried to prop himself on his elbows. He tried to pull himself forward on his stomach.

Then he felt the rest of the pressure relieved, and suddenly his legs were free.

He kicked out, his foot colliding with something as he pulled himself across the floor. His stomach wounds reopened but he barely felt the pain. He tried to turn onto his back, landing on his side, and he threw out his arm. His elbow hit something and he heard a muffled grunt, and then he heard words. Urgent words.

But he didn't listen. He only wanted distance.

Derek rubbed his cheekbone where Scott had accidentally hit him. He followed the boy across the floor on his knees, trying to grab him by the shoulder. "Hey!" He said urgently. "Scott, we have to get out here."

Scott's eyes were open but they were shifted gold. They were fixed on Derek, but Derek had the distinct impression the other beta didn't realize who he was.

Derek slapped Scott's face, and Scott grunted, grabbing onto Derek's wrist, his sharp claws digging into the older beta's flesh.

"Scott!" Derek tried again, almost yelling now. He allowed Scott to keep hold of his arm. "It's me! Get the hell up! Get on your feet!"

As Scott returned closer and closer to reality, the emotion in his chest got closer and closer to boiling point. He didn't know what he was feeling. He could barely remember what had just happened... but then he could, and he kept feeling it. Peter's hand was still on him...

"Scott!" Derek grabbed Scott by the hair on the side of his head, trying to heave him to his feet. "It's me!"

Scott hissed through his teeth and shoved Derek's chest, finally getting his wobbly legs under him. He was feeling light-headed and dizzy... what was going on? Why did his body feel so... strange?

"HEY! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Scott felt hot breath hit him from up close. His face twisted in a snarl and his wide eyes glowed golden. "Get... the hell... OFF OF ME!" He roared, shoving Derek backward with all the strength he had left.

Derek skidded backward, catching himself, and squared up to stare at Scott.

Slowly, Scott began to come to his senses.

He stared back at Derek, panting for breath. His eyes flickered back to a human shade, and the angry lines on his face faded. His eyes were red, and his body was covered in blood and a sheen of sweat, but he couldn't feel the pain.

Then after a moment, Scott glanced down at himself. With shaking hands, he reached down to pull up his jeans and briefs. Trembling, he curled his arms in front of his stomach to cover the deep, bleeding gashes, trying to block the flow of blood.

His eyes flickered to Peter on the floor, impaled by two stakes of broken wood.

"Come on," said Derek urgently, moving closer to him again, as if he would come right up beside him and help him move.

But Scott held a hand out quickly to keep Derek at arm's reach. His hand smeared blood all over Derek's leather jacket, but Derek didn't seem to notice. He didn't try to come any closer. "We really need to get out of here, Scott."

"Okay," muttered Scott, somewhat stuck in his residual shock and bewilderment. "Okay..." his deep brown eyes flickered to Derek's blue ones again. "Wait... How did you...?"

Derek held his hand up for Scott to see. The bones were still in the process of setting and healing, and the skin on his hand was blue and bruised. "There's no time to talk about any of it. You need to get somewhere safe, and then I need to figure this out." There was a dark glint in Derek's eye. Maybe 'figure it out' was a little more serious than he made it sound.

Derek stood back, waiting for Scott to come with him.

Scott took a few stumbling steps forward. "M-my stomach..." he said, looking down at himself again.

"I can help you heal it. Come on, Scott. If he wakes up while we're still here, then I didn't buy you any time."

Scott looked down at Peter again. The alpha's fingers were beginning to twitch.

He nodded and moved away from the wall to follow Derek. Derek waited for him, not taking his eyes off the younger beta, and led the way to the exit hatch on the other side of the basement.

A few steps away from the hatch, Scott wavered on the spot and stopped walking. He blinked his eyes... everything looked foggy.

"Come on," said Derek again, quickly returning to Scott's side. Scott tried to grip the shoulder of Derek's jacket to keep him at bay, but the movement unbalanced him a little, and he ended up using Derek's shoulder to steady himself.

"You're losing too much blood," said Derek grimly.

Scott shook his head, fighting the blurred edges of his vision. "No, I'm okay. Let's go," he said, starting forward again.

But his knees collapsed, and he went down. Blackness enveloped him before he even felt the floor.

Derek lurched forward and caught Scott by the shoulders before the other beta landed. He cushioned his head and stood over him, gripping the boy's chin. "Hey, wake up!" He ordered, slapping Scott's face a few times, and shaking him by the jaw. Scott gave no response.

"Shit..." muttered Derek. He bent over and took Scott by the arm, hoisting him onto his shoulder. It was difficult to be careful of the boy's wounds, but Derek knew the first priority was getting out.

Carrying Scott's limp body, Derek jogged heavily to the hatch, turned the lock, and pulled it open. He carried Scott up the narrow ramp toward the opening at the top. He could see stars in the sky at the top of the ramp, where the tunnel ended.

But when he stepped out of the tunnel, he screeched to a halt and froze. He barely managed to keep Scott from falling off his shoulder.

Christopher Argent stood before him with a few unfamiliar faces. Each of them levelled their guns and crossbows at Derek and Scott.

"Oy! Kate!" Barked Argent without taking his eyes off Derek. "I found them!"

"Don't shoot!" Barked Derek. "Don't shoot." Carefully, he lowered Scott off his shoulder and onto the crisp grass at his feet. He straightened back up and held his hands in the air. "This isn't what it looks like, Argent."

Chris Argent gave a derisive laugh. "It's not? What do you think it looks like, Hale?"

Derek shook his head. "I'm not the one you want. I didn't do this. Listen to me! You're all in danger."

"It looks to me like you're the one in a precarious position," said Argent in a low voice. "Why don't you step away from the boy, and keep your hands in the air."

"No!" Growled Derek, "I can't. He needs me to help him heal. These wounds, they're from an alpha! I don't have time - "

"So there really is an alpha?" Argent inquired. None of the hunters lowered their weapons an inch. "Where is it Hale? Give me a name."

Derek stared at him, seething through his bared fangs. "He's in the basement. But he won't be for long... and when he comes out here, you better hope you're all long gone."

"Aww... that's sweet," said a drawling, female voice. Kate Argent stepped out from behind the corner of the house, bringing her crossbow up to aim at Derek. "It cares about you, Chris. Tell me that's not cute." Her smile was wide, and her white teeth shone in the darkness as she fixed her appraising gaze on Derek. "Long time, no see."

Derek's anger seemed to reach a new level, but he restrained himself. "Kate," he spat, the best he could muster. "Killed any children tonight?"

Kate crooned, striding over to stand beside her brother, and resting her elbow on his shoulder as she gazed down her bow at Derek. "Bitten any teenagers?"

"I didn't bite him, the alpha did," growled Derek, shifting on his feet. It almost looked like he was getting ready to run.

"Oh, that's right, the alpha..." Kate looked mockingly thoughtful. "I haven't seen any alphas around here in years. Chris?"

Argent shook his head, looking from Derek to Kate. "I haven't seen one, but I think there might be something to it."

Kate chuckled. She turned her amber eyes on Derek with a smile. "Why? Because some high school kid told you so?"

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound from the bottom of the tunnel, down in the basement.

Derek's eyes shot wide open, and without hesitating, he dropped his hands and bent down to lift up Scott again. He put the boy over his shoulder. "We're getting out of here. I'm taking Scott. If I don't, he could die."

"Stop where you are," barked Argent, who looked alarmed by the sound they had heard. "Don't move an inch. Is there really an alpha down there?"

"Yes," growled Derek, moving slowly away from the house with Scott pinned to his shoulder. "I'm going."

Kate strode forward, taking a strong stance with her bow aimed directly at Derek's chest. "Yellow wolfsbane," she said quietly. "Are you sure you want to test me?"

Derek paused for just a moment, watching her.

Then to everyone's surprise, a sleek, black sedan sped into the clearing, screeching to a halt between Derek and the hunters. It left ruts of dirt in its tracks. The door swung open, and out stepped Alan Deaton, wearing a long jacket and a very grim expression.

"Get in, Derek," Deaton ordered.

Derek hesitated on the spot, his hands holding tightly onto Scott.

About half the people in the clearing turned their weapons on Deaton, looking nervous, and waiting for Argent's reaction.

"Derek!" Deaton commanded more loudly. "Get in the car. Bring Scott. I have what both of you need."

"Hold your fire!" Barked Argent as Deaton crossed their paths. "I don't want a single finger on the trigger. That's you, too, Kate. Dr. Deaton -" began Argent worriedly.

"I'm sorry to step in like this, Mr. Argent, but I'm afraid I must."

Derek trusted his gut instinct, and he started moving toward the car. Deaton stepped away from the car to walk beside Derek and Scott, his eyes on the hunters.

"Dr. Deaton, you don't know what you're dealing with," said Argent worriedly. "We can't let you put yourself in harm's way."

Deaton made sure to stand between Derek and the hunters as much as he could. He gave a polite nod to Argent. "You'll find I know a great deal more than you think. Get in, Derek."

Deaton helped Derek lay Scott on the back seat, and then he stood there while Derek got in behind the younger beta. When both Derek and Scott were shut in the car, Deaton nodded one more time to Argent. "If you need to talk with either of them, you'll have to do it another time."

He walked around to the driver's side and got into the car. The engine revved, and Deaton hit the accelerator. The car spewed dirt and grass into the air as it pealed out, rocketing into the darkness of the forest. The sound of the engine faded to silence.

Then, a roar so loud that it shook dead leaves off branches echoed through the clearing.

The hunters looked around the clearing, clearly unsettled. Their knuckles were white on the handles of their weaponry.

Argent was looking around, too. He raised his crossbow, his eyes on the exit hatch. "Everyone back to your cars," he ordered the group. "If that's an alpha, we'll do this right. This will take some planning."

The group didn't need to be told twice. They dispersed into the trees, climbing into their well-hidden cars and starting up their engines.

Argent held out a hand to stop Kate on their way to their cars. "Just a second."

Kate stopped, turning a thoroughly disappointed gaze on her brother.

"Follow Deaton," Argent told her quietly. "He'll take the two betas to the animal clinic."

A spark of excitement came back to Kate's eyes, and she smiled a little. "Yes, sir, right away, sir," she murmured, somewhat mockingly, but with a loving smile. "I'll call you."

Argent nodded, and the two of them went their separate ways. The hunters drove out of the forest one after the other, back toward town.


	11. Healing

**Chapter Eleven**

 **"Healing"**

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The animal clinic was dark when they arrived, But Deaton flicked on the lights and closed the Dutch door tightly at the counter, securing the line of mountain ash.

"Here, put him here."

Deaton used his arm to push various odds and ends off the metal examination table. His other arm circled around Derek's back as the beta carried Scott into the back room.

Derek lowered Scott carefully onto the table, placing his head down with uncharacteristic gentleness.

Without missing a beat, Deaton pushed Derek out of the way, and leaned over Scott. He held a white cotton cloth in his hand, wet with a strong-smelling substance, and he placed the wet cotton on Scott's stomach wounds and pressed it down.

"What is that?" Asked Derek sharply, hovering behind Deaton's shoulder.

"It's something to speed up the healing," Deaton explained, looking up. "It's alright... I know what I'm doing."

Derek frowned, glancing between Deaton's look of certainty and Scott's unconscious face. "You're Scott's boss, you're a vet. I don't understand... how do you know about us?"

Deaton continued to sponge Scott's stomach with the cloth. "That's right, I'm a vet. And ninety percent of the time, I'm mostly treating cats and dogs."

"Mostly?"

Deaton gave a small nod of his head. "Mostly," he repeated, finishing up with the cloth. He brought it over to a basin on a shelf and dropped it in. Scott's blood mixed with the clear substance that filled the bowl.

"It doesn't make sense," Derek insisted. There was a warning in his tone, and he hovered near Scott's side by the table. Studying Scott, it seemed like the boy's injuries were actually closing up around the edges. "What exactly do you know? How did you know where we would be?"

Deaton brought a bottle of creamy, yellowish gel to the table, and looked up at Derek. "Don't worry, Derek. Neither of you have anything to fear from me."

Derek's frown intensified, his eyes fixed on Deaton's face. "Why's that?"

Deaton's eyes glided calmly over Derek's face for a moment. His eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Because," he began, holding the bottle of gel close to Scott's wounds, and starting to empty the yellowish substance where the injuries were still raw, red and bloody. He looked back up at Derek. "Because I made a promise to your mother, Derek. That I would look after you."

Derek looked stunned into silence. The lines of suspicion across his forehead were frozen in place. "What...?" He said quietly after a second.

Deaton nodded, then used a gloved hand to smear the gel deeply into Scott's wounds. "I'm telling you the truth. I'm more than just vet. Well... I used to be."

"What were you?" There was no denying the sharp edge in Derek's voice.

Deaton inhaled slowly before answering. He finished spreading the substance, and put some of it on the boy's smaller injuries, too. Then he capped the bottle and looked up at Derek, taking a step back from the table. "I was the Druid Emissary to the Hale family."

Derek took a few moments to process that. "The... emissary... but I've never heard of you. I would have known about it if you were..."

Deaton shook his head. "Talia and Laura Hale were the only ones in the pack who knew of me. I became... very close to your mother, Derek. Shortly before she died in that fire, Talia made me promise to look after you. And then, after she was gone..." He swallowed. It seemed a sensitive subject for him. "I gave it all up, I retired, I suppose you could say. But I won't break my promise to her." He made eye contact with Derek again.

Derek stared at him with an unmovable expression of distress on his features.

"You can trigger it now," said Deaton, his expression gentle.

Derek's eyebrows drew closer together. "What?"

Deaton gestured to Scott, moving back toward the table. "His healing. You can trigger it now. The balms I've used should lend some help, even to injuries caused by an alpha."

Derek tore his eyes off Deaton, still registering the information with difficulty. Scott looked pale and sweaty, still covered in blood. Deaton's medicines gleamed all over his upper body.

Derek watched Scott's still face for one more moment, before he took the younger beta's arm in his hands. "Sorry about this, Scott," he muttered. The next moment, he twisted up with one hand and down with the other, deftly cracking the bone in Scott's forearm.

Scott's eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply, letting out a roar of pain. He tried to yank his arm free, rolling sideways toward the edge of the table.

"Whoa, Scott, just a minute." Deaton's voice was soothing. He put his hands on Scott's shoulders as Derek leaped quickly around the other side of the table. "Take it slow."

"Let me up," muttered Scott feverishly, shoving Deaton off him and sliding off the table, landing hard on his bare feet. He slipped and grabbed onto the table. A wave of dizziness flooded him, and he slowly turned to look at Derek and Deaton. He was still holding onto the table.

"It's ok, Scott," said Derek, who had stopped near his side with a hand held out, as if to touch him. But he didn't touch him.

Scott looked from Derek over to Deaton. There was unimaginable confusion in his reddened eyes.

"You're alright," echoed Deaton reassuringly. "You're both safe. Just... just sit back down for a minute, and let yourself heal."

Scott slowly backed up until the cold metal of the table touched his skin, but he didn't sit back down. He looked down at his stomach and held his arms close to him. The long, deep gashes across his midsection were beginning to knit themselves back together. The edges of skin and flesh pulled together, and the wounds got smaller and smaller before his eyes. Scott could also feel the bite wound on the back of his neck start to heal. The numerous puncture wounds and scratches along his body closed up as Derek watched. Lastly, the bone in his forearm straightened and set itself.

Derek cast a glance of reluctant gratitude in Deaton's direction. "It worked."

Deaton smiled, still watching Scott closely. "I told you. I know what I'm doing, Derek."

Scott turned his head to stare around the clinic's back room. "Why are we here?" His voice was a rasp.

But before either of them could answer him, there was a loud sound as someone banged their way into the front office.

Both Scott and Derek tensed, facing the back door without moving. But Deaton held up his hands, gesturing for them to stay where they were. He glanced back at them from the door. Then he walked through it, closing it behind him.

"Stiles," Scott heard Deaton say through the closed door. "Did you see the hours? Maybe I need to buy a more prominent closed sign..." His voice wasn't unfriendly.

"No, maybe you need to stock up on some C4," said Stiles' voice, sounding out of breath.

Scott went to the door and pushed it open, looking out at Stiles. Derek was right behind him.

"Scott!" Stiles gave a jubilant shout of glee, and pushed past Deaton. He opened the Dutch door and approached Scott, grinning ear to ear. "I thought something really bad might have happened..." His joyful grin slid off his face as he looked Scott over, taking in the state of him. "Man... you look like crap." His glee had vanished with his smile. "What the hell happened?"

Scott felt blindsided, and he didn't know why. He shook his head a little, looking down briefly. Then he glanced to Derek, and back at Stiles, still shaking his head.

"Hey man, it's alright," said Stiles with concern, moving forward and opening his arms. It was clear he intended to hug Scott.

Scott went completely still, his muscles rigid. He didn't move back or try to prevent Stiles' embrace, but his muscles were locked in place and his eyes were pained.

Stiles released Scott's stiff shoulders and stepped back, looking him over more closely. The concern in his eyes was growing exponentially. "Scott... man, what happened?"

Beside Scott, Derek looked uncomfortable. It was as though he wanted to intervene, but he didn't know how.

Deaton knew how. "He still needs a little time to heal, Stiles," said the doctor gently. "If you could come back in an hour or so, I'm sure things will be in better shape."

Derek looked over at Deaton. He hoped the man was right, but Deaton didn't know what had really taken place in the Hale house basement.

"That's what I came in here to talk to you about," said Stiles, focusing up and turning to Deaton. "You'll need some C4 or something, maybe a couple grenades. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's that hunter Kate waiting outside in her car..."

Deaton took his eyes off Stiles and went to the front door. He peered outside, left and right, and then fixed on something. His expression darkened considerably, and he turned back around.

"Is it her?" Asked Stiles restlessly.

Deaton nodded. "I would venture a guess that Derek and Scott will be extending their stay a little longer than we anticipated."

"Maybe not," said Stiles conspiratorially, with a look in his eyes that suggested trouble. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, then turned away from the group.

A few moment later, Stiles turned back around, shoving his phone back into his pocket and looking to Scott. There was a lopsided grin on his face once more. "Anonymous tip to dispatch about a woman outside the animal clinic carrying illegally concealed weapons."

Derek raised his eyebrows, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Stiles shrugged proudly. "Sometimes it pays to have a dad who knows the law backward and forward."

Sure enough, a few minutes later, two patrol cars pulled into the road outside the clinic. Their lights and sirens were turned off, but they looked serious as they got out of their cars to approach Kate's silver sedan. Their hands were on their weapons.

Predictably, Kate stepped on the gas and sped out of sight the moment she saw the officers leave their vehicles, forcing them to run back to their patrol cars in pursuit.

Deaton gave a nod of respect to Stiles, and turned away from the front door. "Well played."

Stiles shrugged again, sending an affectionate glance in Scott's direction.

But Scott wasn't looking. He had turned away from Stiles, Deaton, and Derek. He ducked his head and slipped into the back room without a word, closing the door behind him.

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 **Thank you all for your reviews! My very special thanks go out first to fanofeverything, who is awesome, and who must wait to find out whether or not Scott is really safe. But who will not have to wait very long! And secondly, much gracias to CurbysNephew, who's proposal is under consideration. ;) Please leave a review! They help inspire and shape the story.**


	12. Run Boy Run

This chapter contains mild profanity.

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **"Run Boy Run"**

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Scott leaned against the metal examination table with his back to the door. He was curled forward, and his hands gripped the sides of his head as he bent over almost double. His eyes were shut tight and distress contorted his features.

 _"What happened?"..._ Stiles had no idea. And if Scott could help it, he probably never would.

Peter's face loomed closer in Scott's mind's eye... red eyes flashed.

 _"You're mine..."_

Scott's breath caught in his throat and his heart sped up in his chest. Breathing faster, he gave his head a shake, his hands flattening over his ears.

He kept seeing the alpha's red eyes gleaming as he pinned Scott down. He couldn't stop reliving the moment when he realized that Peter wanted him in a different way. The sensation of the older man's cold hands between his legs, stroking him... The helplessness that filled him, the blind desperation to get away...

Nausea pushed up from his stomach. The memories swirled in Scott's mind, thoughts with jagged edges, making his heart hammer painfully against his ribcage.

He looked down at his lower torso and ran his hands over the healing scars of Peter's attack. His nails scraped across his skin as the alpha swam in his vision once more. With an angry snarl, he clenched his fist and slammed it down on the table with a resounding thud.

Someone tried to open the door behind him.

"It's locked," came Stiles' voice. "Scott, what's up?"

Scott didn't move yet, and his eyes didn't open. There was a deep, dark, unstoppable sensation rising through his body. It heated his nerves and strengthened his muscles, spreading through him like fire, banishing his weakness. He slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. They glowed yellow under his heavily furrowed brows.

"Scott," said Stiles, pounding on the door a few times. "It's locked. What are you -?"

"Open it," interrupted Derek's low voice.

Scott heard the jingle of a keyring on the other side of the door. His narrowed yellow eyes flickered to the storage room door on the opposite wall. It stood ajar, and through it, he could see bright moonlight filtering through a high window...

Deaton approached the locked door. "I have the key, Scott. Can I come in?"

There was no answer out of the back room. Deaton looked unsure.

Derek stepped forward. "I don't think he should be left alone," he told them briskly.

Deaton turned his somber eyes on Derek. "It's possible he just needs a little time. He's been through a lot today."

"He's been through more than you... know..." Derek trailed off before saying anything further. Scott would probably see it as a betrayal if he ever spoke to anyone about what happened. But another perspective was gaining ground, and Derek couldn't ignore it. He might eventually have to tell someone else, if Scott won't let him in... "Just," Derek spluttered, shaking his head to Deaton, "Time alone isn't what he needs right now. He might want it, but just... trust me. Open the door."

Deaton hesitated for a long moment, watching Derek's expression. With the key in his hand, he looked toward Stiles almost questioningly, but Stiles was staring openly at Derek, the picture of cluelessness. Finally Deaton looked back at Derek and gave him a short nod. "Alright. I believe you."

"How much more than we know?" Blurted Stiles loudly.

"Scott, I'm coming in," said Deaton, inserting the key as Derek gave Stiles a cold shoulder. The lock clicked and he turned the door handle, swinging open the door.

Deaton gazed around the back room while Stiles pushed in behind him, and Derek leaned to see around the other two.

But Scott wasn't there anywhere in sight.

"Where is he?" Said Stiles in confusion.

With a low, rumbling growl, Derek shoved past Stiles and Deaton. He walked abruptly to the storage room and knocked the door wide open, then stopped on the threshold. He stared up at the high window. It was propped open with a metal tray, and Scott's scent trailed straight through it.

There was a moment of tense silence as Derek stared up at the window. Then he inhaled slowly, deliberately, and turned around to face Deaton and Stiles.

"Is he gone?" Asked Stiles incredulously.

Derek's eyes gleamed. "Yes. He's gone after my uncle."

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 **End**

 **Please enjoy the sequel, 'Bane of an Alpha.' It can be found on my page under my stories :) Thank you all for your support!**


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